Mercury
by Hecateslover
Summary: Harry's biggest influence growing up in the muggle world was Freddie Mercury.W-What? He wanted to be a rock star when he grew up. He'd never planned on being a wizard...


Harry's biggest influence growing up in the muggle world was Freddie Mercury.W-What?

He wanted to be a rock star when he grew up. He'd never planned on being a wizard- but hey, go with the flow, right? The wizarding world will never know what hit it.

Harry/many- het and slash :3

There will undoubtedly be lemony goodness in the future, but not for a while yet. After all, Harry's only a firstie in this chapter.

I also really, really recommend to listen to the songs that I mention in this story, to really get the full affect. There's a good variety, and you never know, you might discover something you like! :3

x-x-x

Harry sighed, and took a deep breath. His fingers began to press down on the keys, closing his eyes. He sat at a piano, in the music room of his primary school. He often hid out here in the morning before school began, during recess, and sometimes he would even sneak into the school at night to play. It beat being locked up in his cupboard.

He was reading the sheet music before him, swaying in time. He loved playing at night- no one else was in the building, so he could play as loud as he wanted. When he wasn't playing the piano, he got into the music teacher's stash of vinyls that she had hidden in the storage closet, and spend nights listening to Queen, David Bowie, the Beatles, the Who, and many more.

Harry wanted to be a rock star. Not just any rock star, but he wanted to be a legend, a superstar up there with the likes of Freddie Mercury. He loved the man's music, his voice, his style. He was so cool! Of course, the Dursleys put the singer down every time he was in the news or on the telly- he was a freak, a fag, a poof- whatever else they could come up with. It didn't bother Harry much- they often called him those things too.

The only thing was, Freddie Mercury had a band, with amazing guitarists and a drummer, and sometimes he played the piano, or had someone else play for him. Harry didn't have anyone like that, and wouldn't find anyone like that around here. One day, he was going to run away to London, and start his very own band.

Until then, he would practice. Harry played the piano until his hands were sore and until his throat was raw from singing. He practiced his scales, moving quickly onto sheet music. Some of it was the school's sheet music, others were photo copied from the library.

Harry wanted to write his own music, but he hadn't gotten to that point yet. One day, he would. One day, he'd be up stage, with everyone cheering his name, and he'd be on the telly, and the Dursleys would be soooo jealous.

Harry finished his practicing at about 2am, and went for a jaunt around the school. Sometimes he managed to find a treasure trove of items, like Ms. Higgin's albums, or food in the cafeteria. He didn't linger much in the library- just long enough to see if there was any good music or art books. You see, he'd done his research. Freddie had actually gone to school for art and graphic design, of all things, and certainly had a way with words.

Harry wasn't the most academic sort, but if he was going to be a musician one day, he'd have to put the work in now. Science and math was never his sort of thing, but he liked learning new words and trying to come up with rhymes for them. He also liked to read fairy tales and the like- he knew a fair few of the muses of the greatest musicians were from old folk songs, ancient lore, and fairy tales.

Everything he did was done with a goal in mind. Harry was relentless in his research and wanting to become a great musician. He did his research on the more stuffy classical composers and the like. They seemed a bit boring (unless you found out about their various affairs and things, and that wouldn't be in the school's library), but their music wasn't. He was just as excited about Mozart and Racmaninoff as he was about Dizzy Gillespie, The Beatles, or even John Cage. He was taught that thinking outside the box wasn't such a bad thing, and that you couldn't learn everything from a book. That you had to experience life, and share what you learned; share your Message.

It was dawn as Harry finally snuck out of an open window, and made his way back to Privet Drive. The primary school wasn't too far away, and when he ran, it took him less than ten minutes to get back. His bookbag banged against his back, and Harry's heart felt lighter with every step he took.

Soon, he would be in secondary school, and he would finally be able to have proper music classes, and hopefully find others who were interested in forming a band.

Later on that day, Harry was scrubbing the kitchen floor, trying to do it at a beat to at least make things a little bit more interesting. He often did this when cleaning or cooking.

"Boy! What on earth are you doing?" Harry turned his head slightly to see his Aunt in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips. She was looking down her long pointy nose at him, lips pursed.

"...scrubbing the floor?" Harry asked, a bit confused.

The woman's eyes narrowed.

"I want everything to be neat and tidy for Dudder's birthday tomorrow. Don't you dare ruin his big day for him!"

Harry sighed, and he was left alone once more. He began his scrubbing, counting under his breath. "And...one, two three...and one, two, three..."

Harry continued his cleaning until late in the afternoon, and then he was sent to his cupboard. Harry laid on his thin mattress, staring up at the spiders, watching them make their webs. He'd always liked watching them...it was kind of cool. He and the spiders had a deal- they didn't bother him, and he didn't bother them. He loved the patterns they made- quite intricate, and he knew that spiders caught their prey on that silk, feeling through vibration...he wondered what those vibrations sounded and felt like. He would watch them with their prey silently, wondering if flies could scream. Morbid thoughts for such a young boy, but Harry wasn't really...normal.

He felt exhausted- after all, he only got a couple of hours of sleep the night before. But he was used to little sleep. He didn't have much time to himself during the day, and the time he did have, he was stuck in this cupboard.

He rolled onto his stomach, reaching through a cubbyhole, taking out a magazine he'd filched. It had been one of Aunt Petunia's. Usually she read icky magazines about 'women's problems' and the like, but Harry's eye caught on the man on the cover. The most beautiful, awesomest guy ever- David Bowie.

David was a close second to Freddie, in Harry's opinion. He flipped through the magazine, humming softly as he glanced through the photos. Glossy pictures of girls all kitted up in outrageous outfits didn't make him glance twice- they looked stupid anyways. Far too much fluffy hair, and stupid expressions. He slowed as he stopped at a picture of a singer. This guy was an American, that he'd heard mention of on the telly once or twice.

His name was Kurt Cobain, and he was a guitarist for a new band named Nirvana. Harry stared at his picture. The guy was a bit grungy and looked...well, he dressed like Harry did before Harry was able to take in his hand-me-down clothes. Harry frowned slightly, and flipped a few more pages, smiling as he saw David Bowie.

"Mr. Bowie, you're amazing." Harry whispered to the man's picture, a grin lighting up his face. The lightbulb above his head didn't provide much light, but it was enough to see the man's visage. The man had started a new Band, called the Tin Machine, but they weren't doing all that hot. Harry didn't care about that. He was a big fan of the man's earlier work, but still followed his music on the radio, along with all the other current bands.

At the Dursley house, they wouldn't listen to such 'trash' like Bowie and Freddie, but they did allow Dudley listen to his explicit rap. Harry felt as though if you were going to cuss people out, you should at least do it with style. There were very few rappers that Harry liked- it took him a while to understand their lyrics. Harry wholeheartedly believed in the power of words, of lyrics. They made a strong statement, more than any short skirt or wink of an eye. Sure, it might help things along, but he believed in spreading a Message.

He just hadn't figured out what he wanted his Message to be yet.

x-x-x

Harry found himself at the zoo the following day, as Mrs. Figg had broken her leg and couldn't look after him. Harry was ecstatic to get to go, because he'd always wanted to go. Unfortunately, the rest of the Dursleys were with him, and as usual, calamity ensued.

The entire ride home, Harry knew he was in big, big trouble. Only freaks talked to snakes, only freaks made glass disappear. Sometimes...just sometimes, he wished he'd disappear too, so no one could hurt him anymore.

As soon as Piers was sent home, Harry was locked up in his cupboard, and would stay there for the next month. Being locked up, he couldn't even sneak out of the house at night, and he resigned himself to writing in his notebooks, trying to listen hard to the telly and the radio, not wanting to be deprived of his music.

It had been the longest time he'd ever been locked up. Not only that, the Dursleys fed him even less than usual, and that was saying something. He sometimes got really tired, and it was hard to think straight...it really sucked.

Harry was mending an old t-shirt when he heard a news bulletin on the telly that made him go still. Freddie Mercury was sick. Really sick. People had been saying he'd been sick for a while now, some even said that he might have even caught that...AIDS thing. But Harry didn't want to believe it. Freddie was a legend, a God amongst men, he...he couldn't die, right?

Harry found himself crying into his t-shirt, trying to stifle his sobs. Freddie was never going to die. He just couldn't.

x-x-x

Harry sat in front of his birthday cake that was drawn in the dust on the ground. After the strangest events, he and the Dursleys were now staying out in the middle of nowhere. Harry stared at the cake, sighing.

"I wish...to have an amazing, fabulous life, with lots of music, fun, and...and love. That I will make friends, and finally find a place where I belong." He whispered, hoping that his wish would come true. It might take some work, but he would make it happen.

Harry blew at the dust, and the cake faded away. He smiled sadly, and was about to curl up in his blanket with three loud thuds banged on the door. Harry's eyes went round, and he looked down at the floor where the cake had just been. "No way." He whispered.

The door fell to the ground with a smash, and a large man stood there. He came into the room, and Harry gasped. The man had wild looking hair and beard, and was...huge! Harry didn't even know there were guys around that large!

"Harry!"

Harry's mouth dropped open further. "Who are you?"

Hagrid told him about being a wizard, about him being a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, the Dursleys didn't want him going- imagine Harry's shock that they actually knew what he was, and the little fact that his parents hadn't died in a car accident, but had been murdered by a mad wizard. Hagrid gave him his first ever birthday cake, and Hagrid showed him a bit of magic by giving Dudley a pig's tail, and lighting a fire.

Harry was pretty starry-eyed after that.

"So...are there wizard musicians?"

Hagrid's beetle eyes looked at him curiously. "Well...uh, yeah, I suppose so. There's the Weird Sisters, and Celestina Warbeck. There's lotsa others, but I don't follow music much."

"Does Hogwarts have music classes?" Harry asked hopefully, wondering if magical music classes were cooler than regular music classes.

"eh, no, but we have a choir." Hagrid said with a smile.

Well, that sucked, but at least he could sing.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?" Harry murmured, shaking his head, quoting one of his favorite songs. Hagrid gave him a strange look. Harry gave him a sheepish smile. "It is hard to believe, you know. I always knew something was different about me, but I always thought it was just..." Harry trailed off with a blush. "You're saying that I'm a hero, that I am Famous in your world...but I'm famous for something I don't even remember doing. I'm famous because I lived, and my parents died."

Hagrid looked at him sadly. "Yeah. Try to get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow. 'ere, you can use my coat. It's mighty cold out here."

"...won't you be cold, Hagrid?"

The giant of a man shrugged, wrapping Harry up in his coat. Harry smiled at him tentatively, unused to the foreign scent- it smelled earthy, like dirt and leaves, and something else he couldn't quite place.

As Harry curled up next to the fire, huddled in the large coat, he looked over at Hagrid.

"Hagrid?"

"...hmm?" The man was lying down now, trying to get comfortable.

"Tell me about Hogwarts."

Hagrid chuckled, a low rumbly sound that Harry found he quite liked. What instrument could mimick that sound? He wasn't sure.

"I've lived at Hogwarts for most of me life, Harry. I could tell ya alot. What do you want to know?"

"What do you do exactly?" Harry asked, turning over on his stomach, resting his head in his arms.

"I work in the forest an on the grounds. I take care of the animals and sometimes I cover for Kettleburn, our Creatures Professor, when he's stuck up in the hospital wing."

Harry yawned, looking at the crackling fire not too far away. "What does it look like? How many kids go? Do witches really fly brooms?"

x-x-x

Hagrid arrived to Hogwarts late in the afternoon on July 31st, and walked to Dumbledore's office. The other staff members were just gathering together. Hagrid handed over the package to the Headmaster, who pocketed it with a smile.

"Thank you Hagrid. I hope that all of your errands were successful?"

Hagrid grinned, and sat down on a conjured bench that creaked ominously underneath him. Snape snuck in, and stood in his customary corner. All of the staff members were there now. At least the Heads of Houses.

"Yeah, took me a while to track 'em, but I found him." Hagrid said.

McGonagall spoke, lips pursed. "So why didn't he reply to the letters?"

Hagrid's smile faded. "Those muggles didn't want him going to Hogwarts, so they kept the letters from 'im. Didn't even want him to know about magic."

At all of their outraged looks and gasps, Dumbledore attempted to calm them down. "But you found him and gave him his letter."

"Oh yeah." Hagrid chuckled. "Bright lad. Looks a bit like James, but with Lily's eyes. Honestly, he looks a bit more like his Grandad. An' he's so little too, smaller than I ever remember Lily an' James bein'. Kept asking me questions, even though the muggles looked like they were about to throttle him."

"But why would they keep Harry's heritage from him? How did he think his parents died?" Sprout asked.

Hagrid's face turned stony. "Those muggles told 'im that they died in a car crash. I don't think those muggles did right by Harry, not at all."

"You...you don't think they hurt him?" McGonagall asked carefully.

"...nah. Don' think so. Anyways, I went with him to Diagon Alley. He just abou' cried when he saw his Trust Vaul'. He was real polite to the Goblins, even though he was a bit nervous about them. After gettin' his supplies, oh, Albus in the wand shop-"

"I got a note from Ollivander, Hagrid." Albus cut in, eyes twinkling. "Continue with your story."

"Er...alright. Well, instead of buyin' all his books new, he bought them second hand and practically dragged me to the instrument shop a bit further down the road. Apparently the tyke likes music!"

Dumbledore's smile widened at this.

Hagrid went on. "The clerk had a bit of a heart attack when the lad just sat down at the piano and started to play- and he was bloody good too! The boy wanted to get an instrument righ' there, but I told him we didn't have enough time. Anyways, he ran into Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin's, and the boy got a bit worried about his Sortin'. I set him to rights, though."

Snape snorted at this, but it was ignored by everyone.

"He got his school clothes, but the lad was askin' all sorts of questions to Madam Malkin that made my head spin- did ya know there's a specific color charm so it doesn't fade away from cloth? He and Madam Malkin 'ad a little lesson right there in the shop."

"...he didn't actually use his wand, did he?"

Hagrid started laughing at McGonagall's question.

"Nah, the boy saw right around tha' rule right away and asked if he could use hers... she didn' let him though. Oh, and I got a boy a present. I got 'em an owl-"

"Hagrid!" McGonagall chastised, but her lips were twitching into a smile. "You really should be a bit more unbiased."

"Wha? It's not like he got any presents before. The boy was cryin' when he told me, and told me tha' it was the first present he ever got from anybody."

The room was silent at this, and the adults put everything together quickly.

"We can't have him stay there with those people, Albus." McGonagall said quietly.

Albus shook his head. "With the blood wards, that is where he is safest. Under other circumstances, I would think differently."

The others began to talk about their preparations for the upcoming school year, and Minerva talked about some of the muggleborns that would be coming that year.

x-x-x

Harry managed to find his way to King's Cross on September First, with no help from the Dursleys. Sometimes strange things showed up on the doorstep when he came to collect the milk in the mornings. There was always a cat, sitting on the sidewalk and watching him, nearly every morning. The cat would watch him pick up the small vials and odds and ends- healing potions, they were labeled, some wrapped sandwhiches and biscuits...still, after seeing Diagon and everything, he certainly wasn't going to question his strange good fortune.

His last month in the muggle world was spent getting ready for Hogwarts. In addition to his trunk, his bookbag was full of sheet music, either photocopied or filched from Little Whinging Public Library or the school library. He'd also learnt how to use the Knight Bus, and took advantage of it wholeheartedly.

He had also taken advantage of his trust vault at Gringott's. He learnt that he could convert his money to muggle money, at £10 per galleon. At the conversion rate, he had a total of £125,000 in his vault, and he would get more when he turned thirteen, when he inherited the rest of his family's vaults (there was a whole lot more money in those). Still, Harry knew that it would be a while yet before he could get a proper job, and part of that money went towards his tuition at Hogwarts. Being responsible, most of his books and things were second hand, except for things like his wand and his school robes.

Of course, being an eleven year old, that didn't stop him from converting some of his money and buying a record player. Instead of an electric, he got an old windup one, after seeing that electricity and magic didn't mesh. Even the _thought_ of not being able to listen to his music while at school was blasphemy.

And Harry thought the wizarding world seriously needed to update their music selection. He spent a day in London hitting up all the record stores, building a rather impressive collection of records- old, new, foreign, just a bit of everything. He ended up spending approximately the same as you would on a Cleansweep Seven with all the records he got.

Harry, of course, stashed as many as he could into his trunk, making a special compartment for them. In addition the record-buying binge, he also went bargain shopping at some clothing stores in London. Of course, doing all this shopping had to be done carefully. People would notice if he bought a large amount of things all at once, so he managed to buy small amounts of cheap items at numerous stores, consolidating bags and such to make it look like he had bought less than he had. He didn't want to look as though he'd stolen a lot of money.

The clothes he ended up getting were mostly things from second hand stores- old band t-shirts, jeans, a couple of pairs of shoes, and a few other unique finds that Harry just HAD to get. Like the satin white jacket that looked like the one Freddie wore in his Bohemian Rhapsody recording. He'd had to change it a bit, cropping it, making sure it wouldn't be too big on him.

He stood at King's Cross, dragging his trunk behind him with one hand, Hedwig in her cage, in his other hand. He had a bookbag slung over his shoulder. Everything was getting kind of heavy, so he pushed his way through the crowd. He realized he was attracting a lot of stares, and it probably wasn't because of his Fame, or whatever.

He wore a pair of fitted grey trousers, with his HUGE black leather jacket, his blue and purple striped t-shirt, and bright red converse. He certainly stood out in comparison to the crowds on Platform 9and 3/4- the majority wore flowing robes of brocade and silk, and their hair was done elaborately. He really did like some of the robes and things, but he was too small to pull that look off yet. At least most of the men around here seemed to have longer hair, like he did.

Aunt Petunia hated his new haircut. It had just grown like that one day, and like always, it had grown back whenever she tried to cut it. His hair fell about his shoulders and waves, and his bangs just brushed into his eyes. He thought he looked kind of like a young Freddie. He couldn't wait to get contacts or something- these glasses were hideous.

Harry knew he didn't fit in here, and he wasn't going to try to. While the wizarding world was his new home, he would adapt and such, but he was still going to be his own person. After all, what would Freddie do? Be himself, make every situation work for him.

Harry got onto the ruby red train, and grinned at all the kids who were looking at him dubiously.

"Hey, I'm Harry Potter. Anyone care to share a compartment with me?"

x-x-x

Harry soon regretted his words, as he was put into a compartment of overeager fans clamouring for his attention. He escaped as soon as he could, into a compartment where a bushy haired girl was reading. She looked up, and looked dubiously at his outfit.

Harry gave her a sheepish smile. "Hey."

"Hullo." The girl gave him a prim look.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

Harry sat down, glancing at the door. He turned to look at her, noting her muggle clothing- she hadn't changed into her robes yet. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. And you are?"

"Hermione Granger." They shook hands, and the girl's eyes flicked to his forehead. She blushed at Harry's glare.

"Sorry. Did you know that you're in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_? And in-"

"I've never been interviewed in my life. The stuff they say about me isn't true."

"...oh."

Harry wondered why she was sitting so stiffly. He recognized her expression from the ones that the women on Privet Drive gave him. He glanced down at the book she was reading.

"_Hogwarts:A History_? Is it good?"

The girl nodded, smiling hesitantly. "Oh yes, very good. This is the third time I've read it now."

Harry blinked. He wanted to ask why she'd read the same book 3 times, but didn't. He looked out the window. "So you're a First year, right?"

She nodded. "And you are too, yes?"

"Yeah. So, what House do you want to get Sorted in?"

"Gryffindor, I think." The girl paused. "But Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad either. What about you?"

Harry shrugged. "No clue. Hagrid said Slytherin was full of dark wizards, but that's just stupid. I figure if they were all Dark Wizards, they wouldn't be allowed in the school. They're all kids, just like us. From what I've heard, Hufflepuff is full of duffers, but I heard that they're pretty hard working too. Ravenclaw is for the smarties, and while I like to read now and again, I'm not terribly smart."

Hermione's brows rose at this.

Harry laughed. "Look, I'm not one to brag. I don't try to make myself look good by lying. While I don't mind reading, it's for a specific purpose, and only in certain subjects. I could care less about math and science."

The girl gasped at this, looking as though Harry had told her the Easter Bunny wasn't real.

Harry laughed again. "Sorry, but I have my strengths and my weaknesses. I'm sure there are some things that you don't like to learn about?"

At the girl's expression, he backtracked. "Er, maybe not?"

"I like to learn." She said in a small voice.

"There's nothing wrong with that. So, you're a muggleborn, right?"

Hermione nodded, and Harry grinned. "Thought so, with the denim and such. I grew up in the muggle world, too, if you can't tell. What sort of music do you like?"

"Music?" Hermione echoed, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah, music. Do you play any instruments, or what sort of music do you listen to on the radio?"

Hermione fiddled with the page in her book. "Well, I had some piano lessons, when I was younger, and...and...I like musicals..." Her blush deepened.

Harry grinned widely. "I play the piano too! Who is your favorite composer?"

Harry prodded her into a conversation about music and the piano, until they were interrupted by the trolley lady.

Harry grimaced as he rummaged through his pockets. "I forgot all of my things in the other compartment."

Hermione glanced about. "You were sitting elsewhere? You left the others..."

"I'll just go get my things and be right back." Harry said with a grin. He walked back to his former compartment, pasting a smile on his face as he entered.

"Harry! Where have you been buddy?" "Hey Harry- look guys, I told you he was here earlier-" "Hi Harry-"

"Hullo guys. I just wanted to grab my things. It's a bit crowded in here, you know? I'll see you guys at the school, alright?" He gave them all a bashful smile, grabbing his things, and getting out of there before they could convince him to stay. His smile dropped as he walked down the corridor.

He didn't want groupies or hangers-on. He didn't want people to be friendly with him just because of his fame. He went into the compartment he was sharing with Hermione, and saw her smile. She looked a bit nervous- had she thought he wasn't going to come back?

"Well, good thing I brought some of my own food. You think the trolley lady will come by again?" Harry asked as he put his things away.

"...I'm not sure. You have a lovely owl, Harry."

"Her name is Hedwig. She's gorgeous, isn't she?" Harry said, glancing back at her. "You don't mind if I let her out of her cage, do you?"

"I don't mind." Hermione said. Harry let Hedwig out of her cage, and he motioned for Hermione to sit next to him.

"You can pet her if you like. Just be careful, she's a bit of a snob...oh, she likes you!" Harry said with a grin.

Hermione smiled tentatively at him, ruffling the bird's feathers. "Hedwig is the Patron Saint of Orphans. Did you know that?"

"Huh. No. I just flipped through my History of Magic textbook and pointed at a name." Harry laughed a bit nervously. "Me and Church don't mix well."

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. "Why not?"

Harry just shrugged, looking out the window. "The muggles I grew up with. They went to Church every Sunday, but were the biggest Hypocrites I'd ever seen."

"...oh." Hermione said quietly.

"I don't mind the music, of course, the hymns are alright. It's just the people. So! I reckon it's about time to get ready, yeah?"

x-x-x

Harry stood in the Entrance Hall, feeling rather nervous. Hogwarts was a beautiful castle, and he could practically feel it's magic vibrating underneath his converse, up through his body, all the way to his fingertips. He had the sudden urge to play the piano- his fingers wiggled at his sides in an unseen tune. McGonagall left the first years to get themselves ready. Harry had simply ran a hand through his hair, knowing there wasn't much else he could do to it. It kind of had a mind of its own, even when it was longer like this.

Hermione was murmuring spells under her breath, impressing Harry with her repetoire, but at the same time, annoying him.

"Hermione, don't worry. Be calm, relax." Harry whispered into her ear. "You'll do just fine. Wherever we end up, we end up. I'll still be your friend, yeah?"

Hermione looked as though she was about to cry. "Really?"

Harry gave her a smile, and suddenly someone spoke behind him.

"So you're really Harry Potter."

Harry turned slightly, seeing the blonde boy from the robe shop. Harry gave the slightest of nods, and the other first years around them began to whisper.

The boy plastered on a charming smile, and Harry could see clearly that it was fake. He held out a hand to Harry.

"Pleased to meet you, Potter."

Harry shook his hand, watching the boy's eyes. He was nervous, although the rest of his body language didn't say it.

"And you're Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you Draco."

The blonde's nervousness eased, and his smile widened slightly. Their hands let go.

"So, Potter, have any idea what House you'll be Sorted into?"

Well aware of the stares, Harry only shrugged. "No idea. I figure that wherever I'm placed, I'm placed there for a reason. All the Houses have their good points."

A few looked a bit scandalized at the thought, but anything else that could be said was cut off with McGonagall's arrival.

They entered the Great Hall, and the Sorting began. Harry looked out over the crowd of students, idly listening to where everyone was Sorted.

Hermione was Sorted into Gryffindor, and Harry sort of hoped to be there with her. It didn't hurt that his parents had been Sorted into that House as well.

Harry glanced at the other tables. Many of the students were glancing his way, but trying not to look as though they were staring.

Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin, of course, and so were his two henchmen. Harry breathed in deeply, trying to get over his jitters, as his name was called.

Harry walked forward, and sat down, McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

Surprise flickered on his face for a moment, and the students grew antsy as the hat remained silent for a few long moment.

Harry had to stifle a laugh, just before the Hat called out "Gryffindor!"

He handed the hat back to a pleased looking McGonagall, and practically ran to Hermione's side. While the whole table was cheering, it was clear that the happiest one there was her.

They gave each other a brief hug, and the Sorting continued.

x-x-x

His first night in the Gryffindor tower was an eventful one. Harry looked to his dormmates, the boys he would be sharing a room with for the next seven years. Ronald Weasley had quickly claimed the space next to Harry's bed, while Harry took the closest bed to the loo and one of the two windows in the whole room.

Ron was a pureblood, and the younger brother to the red headed Twins Fred and George, and Percy the Prefect. Ron had his family's bright red hair, and was covered with freckles. He was also tall and gangly, and had blue eyes. Harry could tell his family didn't have a lot of money, considering the hand-me-down stuff he wore and second-hand trunk. Then again, Harry wore second-hand stuff as well.

Then there was Dean Thomas. He was currently putting up posters of Soccer players above his bed- he was a muggleborn. Dean was one of the few black kids in the whole school, and Harry wondered if wizards had a problem with racism. He hadn't really seen any evidence of that, just bigotry on pureblood values. Dean Thomas was a muggleborn, so he could be picked on because of that. From what Harry understood, Dean was an only child, and he lived with his Mother. He lived in London. Harry was glad to have at least one muggleborn in the room that would get his music choices.

Seamus Finnegan was at his side, putting up his own Quidditch Posters. Seamus was from Ireland, and he was a halfblood. His Father was a muggle, and his mother was a witch. Seamus had two older sisters. He was a joker, and liked to laugh a lot. He always seemed to be smiling, for some reason or another. Despite his Father being a muggle, he didn't seem to get why Dean's soccer posters didn't move. Did he grow up in the wizarding world?

Then there was Neville. The boy was the quietest out of the bunch, and was quietly putting books away on the top of his chest of drawers. He hadn't said much to the other boys. He kept glancing towards Harry, but not in the 'oh my god, you're famous!' sort of way. It was kind of...curious. It seemed that the boy seemed to be a little shy and clumsy- he kept dropping things.

Currently, Harry was sprawled out on his bed, some of his records spread out on the bed. He smiled as he picked up a record.

"You guys like muggle music?"

Dean whipped around. "I thought we couldn't bring muggle stuff into the school." He said with wide eyes.

Harry laughed. "This is a wind-up record player- the electric ones wouldn't work, but this one will." He motioned to the records on his bed and in his open trunk. "And I have lots of records. Want to hear anything while we unpack, guys?"

Dean made a beeline for the records, while the others approached, but hung back. Harry slid off of his bed, watching Dean pick up some of the records.

"Wow, you've got some...interesting tastes." Dean said, looking at him strangely as he held up a David Bowie album.

Harry blushed, knowing what that look was for. "David Bowie is awesome." He looked to the others. "You guys listen to muggle music?"

The three of them shook their heads.

Harry grinned, and set aside David Bowie, and picked up a Sex Pistols Album. "Here." He set his record player on his bedside table, and put the album on.

Ron and Neville instantly put their hands to their ears at the loud music, and Seamus' grin widened.

"Wow!"

Harry lowered the music, and the other two boys listened with wide eyes.

Harry hummed along as he began to unpack the rest of his things. "I've got lots more. Just ask if you want to listen. The only thing is is that you've got to take care of them, alright? I don't want to see any of these broken-" He hugged some to his chest protectively. "They're my babies."

Ron and Neville exchanged an odd look at this, while Dean snickered.

"Mind if I ask my mum to send some records from home?"

Harry smiled. "Sure, if you want to."

"So...you were muggle-raised, right?" Ron asked, rummaging through his trunk. He pulled out a battered chess set, stuffing it under his bed.

"Yeah."

"Is...is that what all muggles dress like?" Ron asked.

Dean laughed. "No." He stopped laughing at Harry's Look.

"Hey, I can dress how I like. I think I look cool." Harry said, motioning to his band t-shirt and faded jeans.

x-x-x

Harry quickly learned his way around the castle by following some of the older students around, and asking portraits for directions. He found he quite liked charms- Flitwick was fun, and there were all sorts of applications for charms that one could use out in the magical world. The man seemed to let him experiment a little, allowing him free reign once he completed his assignment- he seemed to encourage Harry's creativity.

Harry had also heard that Flitwick was the Choir director, and promptly asked the man if he could join. Flitwick had seemed to expect this, and told him to come to his classroom on Friday night for tryouts.

Transfiguration was fun too, although McGonagall was a bit stricter. She wouldn't allow him to experiment with his work like Flitwick did, saying that Transfiguration could be hazardous if not done correctly. He understood. The woman subtly inquired about his homelife after class one day, though Harry just sort of answered vaguely that everything was fine.

History of Magic was dead boring, and Harry tended to use that class period to do homework. He had really hoped that the class would be exciting. He kind of liked history, but it was much better reading it on his own, rather than listening to Binns drone on.

Astronomy was fun, and Herbology was cool. Harry thought the plants were much more interesting than the ones he had to tend to on Privet Drive. It didn't hurt that Professor Sprout, the Professor, was really nice. Harry loved to look up at the stars during his Astronomy classes, and he loved the names of the constellations. Sinastra was really nice too, though she didn't pay attention to him much. That was fine...he got enough attention as it was.

Harry got the impression that Quirrel was a joke, and with his stutter, Harry resigned himself to learning Defense from the textbook. He basically ignored the man during class, doing his own thing. Hermione clearly dissapproved of this (as well as when he did this during History too), but Harry thought it was a waste of time, trying to figure out what the guy was saying when he would understand things a lot better on his own.

Potions was an absolute disaster- Harry knew for certain that Snape didn't like him for some reason. Snape kept staring at him, studying him in a way that made Harry wonder if the guy knew how he'd been treated at the Dursleys. He didn't say anything, he just...watched. When he wasn't watching, he was yelling at the class. Harry just learnt to stay out of the man's way, do the work correctly, and not talk back, even if he really wanted to. It was a skill that he'd learned very well, with Uncle Vernon.

Malfoy was actually sitting next to him in this class, and it actually helped a lot. The blonde had a lot of tutoring before coming to Hogwarts in potions, and helped Harry with the basics. He was still a spoiled prat, and Harry suspected he probably bullied some of the other students when he wasn't around.

Still, after the stressful class, Harry wandered about the dungeons, and managed to find the music room. Of course, it was in an out of the way place and it looked as though it had been abandoned. While everything was dust free, courtesy of the House Elves that rumored to live here in the castle, it was clear that the piano and other instruments were out of tune. That first friday, which was full of free periods in the afternoon, was spent tuning the piano.

That evening, after dinner, Harry reported to Flitwick's classroom for the Choir tryouts. Apparently the Choir had small performances at the school, various Ministry functions, and they did caroling at St. Mungo's. He was quite excited about this. He walked into the classroom, and found that there were ten students there, and all of them were girls. All of them. Oh boy.

They all kind of stared at him as he entered the room. Harry gave them an uneasy smile, tugging on his ponytail a little. Flitwick came out of his office, holding a huge stack of sheetmusic in his arms.

"Alright kids, let's go to the music room!" He said cheerfully. He handed the sheetmusic off to one of the older boys, and they headed towards the music room.

Harry laughed softly, and spoke to the Professor as they walked. "I just came from there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I'd been exploring the dungeons after Potions, and I found the music room. I tuned the piano."

"Oh, good! We never really use that old thing...can't really carry a piano around during a performances, can we?"

"Oh." Harry said, feeling a little dissapointed. And electric keyboards wouldn't work, either. That really sucked, actually.

"But I'm sure it will help us during our practices." Flitwick assured him. He ushered everyone into the music room, and the students sat down in the chairs.

Flitwick stood in the front of the room, by the piano. "Thank you everyone, for coming today. I know there isn't many of us here- some of our older students have moved on to concentrate on their NEWTS, while others graduated last year. Now, we've got a few who were interested in trying out today- Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott, and Su Li. Now, who would like to go first?"

Harry glanced towards the girls- Su Li was a pretty Japanese girl that looked quite shy. Hannah Abbot was very pretty too, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Honestly, unless they were terrible, Harry thought Flitwick would let all three of them in. They obviously needed the numbers. Hannah slowly inched her hand up, glancing towards him. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Alright, Miss Hannah, you are up first! Stand up here next to me, and don't be shy."

Hannah tugged on her robes a little, standing up and going to Flitwick's side. She began to sing- her voice was a bit higher, Harry thought she really should have been singing at a lower octave. But she didn't sound all too bad, actually.

Flitwick spoke up when she finished. "Lovely dear. Thank you, you may sit down."

Hannah hurried to sit, blushing a little. A couple of the other girls pat her on the back.

Harry glanced to Su Li, who was sitting next to him, looking down at her knees. "Ladies first?" He asked softly. The girl glanced towards him nervously.

"...You can go first." She whispered.

"Hey, there's no reason to be nervous. I'm sure you'll be great."

The girl bit her lip, and glanced towards Flitwick, who was smiling. Su Li slowly stood, walking towards Flitwick. She turned slowly towards the others, fidgeting. She glanced towards Harry- he gave her thumbs up. She gave him a nervous smile, and she began to sing.

Definitely a soprano, and a damned good one, if she wasn't so quiet and so focused on looking at the floor. Flitwick clapped a little. "That was fantastic! Thank you Miss Li, you may sit down." Su quickly headed back towards her seat, blushing and smiling as the others clapped for her a little.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry grinned a bit, and headed towards Flitwick. He turned, watching all the girls watching him. It kind of sucked that there were no boys here. He sighed, closing his eyes. He'd chosen 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' By the Beatles, but a slower, more soulful rendition of it.

He began to sing, his voice strong and carrying, and he opened his eyes as he belted out- he could watch the girl's expressions...woah. They were all looking starry-eyed, some of them were on the verge of tears, clasping their hands tightly together.

He finished the song, and for a moment, there was a bit of silence. Flitwick finally spoke. "Mr. Potter...thank you. Was that a muggle song?"

"Yes sir. By a band called The Beatles. I...know a lot of muggle music."

"And you play the piano, correct?"

Harry nodded at this.

"Would you mind playing something for us?"

Harry glanced to the girls, who were still staring at him. "Uh...sure." He went to sit at the piano. It felt kind of awkward with the girls so far away. "You know, you guys came come on over here." He motioned around the piano. The girls quickly got up from their seats, moving to stand around the piano, clearly eager to hear him play.

What should he play?

His lips twitched as he thought of a song.

"This is a muggle song titled- I Want To Break Free- by Freddie Mercury."

And he began to play, and sing. The girls were grinning now, bobbing their heads along, giggling. Flitwick was watching them off to the side, looking thoughtful. Harry sang his heart out, banging on the keys, finally glad that he could play something and people would...get it.

"Play another!" A girl in a Slytherin tie said, grinning widely.

"Yeah, play another!" Hannah cried, hopping a little.

Flitwick cleared his throat, making the girls part.

"Well then, I suppose these auditions were a sucess. Miss Abbott, Miss Li, Mr. Potter, you have been accepted into the Choir. We will have practice once a week. Our next performance will be at the Annual Ministry Gala on September 30th, and then after that will be the Halloween Feast. We have quite a bit of work ahead of ourselves!"

x-x-x

Still, once a week wouldn't be enough for Harry...the music room would soon become a retreat for Harry to go to when he was stressed out, or just when he wanted to escape the mob that followed him around. The girls in the choir were cool, though they took to giggling anytime he was around. That was kind of annoying.

Harry's classmates gawked a lot at him at first, even whispering and such too. It was kind of annoying. He also started to get annoyed with the fact that his Housemates NEVER left him alone. For someone who was so used to being alone so often in the muggle world, it was taking some adjusting to get used to having all these people around. Hermione wasn't too bad, as long as she was reading. When she wasn't reading, her mouth was going a mile a minute, usually nagging at Harry, the only person who would pay attention to her.

"You say I'm a Dreamer. But I'm not the only one." Harry murmured quietly, and Hermione gave him an odd look. They were in the Music Room, and Hermione was sitting at a table, her notes and books spread about her, while Harry was at the piano, his sheet music covering the top of it. Hermione was a bit exasperated because they were supposed to be studying, and Harry kept writing in his ledger, humming to himself. She had been ranting when he interrupted her quietly with that quote.

"Did you just quote John Lennon? Seriously, Harry, aren't you listening to me?"

Harry fixed her with a look. "Hermione, your talents lie with research, studying, and learning...stuff like this. My talents lie with music."

"But...you can do so much more, Harry." The girl said quietly. "You have the power, you could be the Minister of Magic, you could be-"

"I want to be a musician. That's all." Harry said with finality. "Sure, I don't mind helping people, but first and foremost my music comes first. Don't push me into something I don't want to do. You won't like the results."

The girl's eyes widened. "Are...are you threatening me?" She asked in a small voice.

Harry's lips thinned. "No. But if you keep pushing, you're just going to keep pushing until you push me away. Hermione, you're a great girl, and you've got a great way with words. But you need to realize that not everyone likes to study as much as you."

"But...if you don't study, how can you learn?" The girl asked, her voice shaky. Was she about to cry? Harry felt a bit guilty at this. But he had to make his point now before things got worse. After all, it wasn't even halfway through their first term yet, months away from exams. He couldn't imagine what things would be like around exam time, and she was still this hyped up.

"Experience, and practice. Sure, reading is alright, but this much is stressing me out. I'm no good to anyone if I'm stressed out, and I'm more likely to fail the test because of the pressure. People learn different ways, Hermione." Harry said with a small smile. "I just don't learn the way you do."

"I just don't want to see you fall behind." Hermione mumbled, playing with her quill. He had a point, though. Educators had done studies on how people learned- some learnt through memorization, others visually, others were more tactile.

"And I won't." Harry said simply. "Look." He motioned to the sheet music around him. "Tell me about the Goblin War of 1542. And I will put it in my own words."

"Uh...Uurg the Ugly broke a treaty, when he killed a wizard in Diagon Alley. Then, he conspired with the Goblin Council to hide his actions, and-"

Harry cut in over her, and began to sing.

"Diagon was dangerous that night, that fateful night, that fateful night, in 1542.

Uurg the Ugly, so ugly, so ugly, in body and mind,

killed a man, that night, that night, in 1542.

He was guilty, Uurg the Ugly, and tried to hide his ugly actions in 1542..."

He finshed off with a few key notes on the piano. He glanced at her friend, and saw that she was gaping at him.

"See, when I take the exam, I will remember the song. And I'm betting you will remember too."

"...wow, you just came up with that right on the spot."

Harry laughed, and played a few more notes on the piano. "It's not much, but putting it to a beat, and repeating key things, it'll work. Let's continue, shall we?"

x-x-x

And time went on. Dean and Seamus became the best of friends, and Harry put up with their own burgeoning musical tastes, sharing the record player with them. Dean usually went for hip-hop and rap, while Seamus did like a good old rock and roll record. Neville was a bit shy, and just listened to whatever happened to be playing at the time. Ron, however, had horrible taste in music, and the boys tried to keep him from getting at the records.

Harry got to know his other housemates and classmates better. The girls in his year were giggly and annoying, for the most part, except for Hermione...Su Li and Hannah weren't too bad, though, either. They didn't really talk outside of Choir, though.

Hermione had no problems showing off her intelligence, and some of their classmates teased her. However, they learnt pretty quickly that Harry didn't abide by bullying. He even threatened to stop talking to Malfoy one day after he'd called her a Know-It-All Brown noser. Malfoy quickly learnt that Harry could easily hold a grudge. The Twins were pretty funny, and Harry always had a good time with them.

Flying lessons went quite well- Harry was a natural. While he quite liked flying, he knew he wouldn't join the Quidditch team or anything. He really wasn't into sports, and he wanted to focus on his music. Still, Ron kept pestering about it, and Harry got the feeling he would be awful next year when he could actually join the team.

Harry let Hermione borrow Hedwig in exchange for her parent's copy of their newpaper, so they could keep up with muggle news. As far as Harry could tell, the Daily Prophet didn't cut it with world news, and Harry had taken to reading his Uncle's paper from a very young age. Hermione actually liked the idea, and it provided her a means to talk to her parents more often.

The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the other Slytherins treated Harry alright, although they didn't really talk to him. The girls in the Choir were friendly enough, but not outside of meetings. It kind of sucked, since they were all pretty nice to him. Harry hoped that his fame didn't keep people from approaching him. He really didn't want that happening.

As the end of September rolled around, Harry and the girls in the Choir were preparing for their performance at the Ministry. They would only be doing a couple of songs- the Hogwarts Anthem and their traditional Halloween Song. They would be opening for Celestina Warbeck, and the Wierd Sisters would be performing last. The WWN would be covering the Gala, like they did every year.

Harry was kind of nervous- this would be the first time he'd be out in wizarding public properly, and he wanted to make a good impression. All of the students would be wearing their school uniforms and robes, which honestly did nothing for them...but it was traditional.

Harry and the girls were fidgeting restlessly in the Ministry Ballroom, behind the curtains. The Ballroom was filled with people, talking, laughing. They had yet to get a really good look or anything, yet. Celestina's Banshees were all gabbing away nearby, not even glancing their way, while some guys were setting up and tuning the Weird Sister's instruments.

Flitwick, who was wearing a handsome set of purple robes, spoke to them cheerfully. "Alright children, don't be nervous! Remember to sing clear and loud." And he began to lead them up on the stage.

Harry was front and center- that hadn't been his choice, but the girls had decided that. Whatever. It made him dreadfully nervous. He tried not to glance at the crowds yet, hands getting a little sweaty. People began to clap for them, and cheer. The WWN announcer, Glenda Chittock, spoke into her microphone. Next to her, was the Minister of Magic.

"And now, the performance is beginning! As always, we have the Hogwarts Choir opening the festivities, with Professor Filius Flitwick leading! They look so adorable in their little uniforms, it really takes me back!"

"Too true, Glenda." The Minister spoke into his microphone. "Seeing these youngsters really makes me proud- hmm, looks like a boy has joined this year! It's been quite some time since we've seen a boy in the Choir."

"He's a real cutie too!"

Her exclamation was lost when the students began to sing- the Hogwarts Athem first. Many people sang aloud with them, all of them knowing the words, laughing and cheering along. Harry felt perfectly ridiuclous singing it, but he was glad that so many people seemed to like the song.

One of the older girls given the solo for their traditional Halloween song, but Harry could tell that people were already moving on- they clearly wanted to hear the other performers. As they left the stage, Harry accidentally bumped into a woman- she had a head full of dark curls, and was wearing a voluptuous red gown. She frowned a little, and then did a double take.

"No! You're Harry Potter!"

Harry flushed at this. He'd really hoped that this wouldn't happen tonight. The rest of the Choir was glancing back at them curiously, Flitwick was pushing his way through.

"I'm Celestina Warbeck, but I'm sure you already know that. You sing?"

"Uh, well-"

"Then I'm sure you know my songs- how would you like to sing with me?"

Harry's eyes went round at this. He looked to Flitwick, who gave him a little grin, and a shooing motion.

"Well, I..."

"We'll sing one of my old favorites, 'You Charmed The Heart Right Out of Me'. Do you know it?"

"Yes-"

"Good, let's get rid of this dreary old robe, take that ponytail down-" Harry squeaked a bit as she yanked his robe off- he could hear the crowd chanting Celestina's name. He was tured around roughly- Celestina tossed Harry's robe towards Flitwick, who looked like he was about to laugh at any moment. The other girls were giggling and whispering now, as they so often did when Harry sang. He sighed. He really, really hoped he didn't mess up. He wasn't a fan of Celestina's, but...maybe he could show people what he could do?

The woman quickly worked on his hair, taking his ponytail down, arranging it. "There we go!" She turned him back around, lips pursing a little as she gave a good look to his face. "Can't do anything about the glasses- you won't want to walk around stage blind-"

Harry spoke up. "Can I use the piano?" He blurted, knowing she would be using her during her act.

"Oh, you play? Hmm, that could be fun. I'll stand by the piano while you play. Alright dear, you ready?"

"I..." Harry glanced to Flitwick, who gave him a thumbs up. He glanced to the girls, and they were grinning and cheering him on. He gave the woman a mute nod. She took his hand, and the two strode out onto the stage. People began to clap, looking a bit curiously at Harry.

Celestina took to the Microphone that had been set up, and spoke. "Thank you everyone! I'm sure you're all wondering who this young man is, next to me. He performed with the Hogwarts Choir, and we bumped into each other backstage. Imagine my suprise when I found out this young boy is Harry Potter!"

There were gasps, and loud cheers- Harry was blushing now, trying his best not to cover his face up. Cameras started flashing. Celestina raised her hand. "Now, I just had to do a little duet with Harry here- now, be kind, this is his very first performance! We're going to sing 'You Charmed The Heart Right Out of Me'." There was some more cheering at this- it was clearly one of Celestina's best.

She led him over to the piano with a grin- a microphone had already been set up there. He sat down, feeling a bit nervous, performing in front of all these people. Celestina gave him an ecouraging smile, covering her microphone.

"Don't worry kid, you'll do great. You've got potential."

She motioned for him to get ready, and begin. He began to play the opening keys of the song. She turned towards the crowd with a wide smile, and began to sing. Harry concentrated on getting the chords right. He'd only played this song a few times before...he thought her stuff was too mushy, honestly. He leant in, beginning to chime in with the lyrics.

Celestina turned towards him with a grin, continuing to sing into her microphone, giving him a small measured nod- Harry leant into his microphone a bit more, becoming a bit more relaxed. They ended strongly together, grinning a bit. The crowds clapped and clapped.

Celestina held out her hand to Harry, and they took a bow together. The woman gave him a wink. "Maybe we can do this again, sometime."

Harry grinned a bit, and Celestina spoke to the crowd. "Alright everyone, Harry's got to get back to his classmates, but let's give him a hand!"

There was some more applause at this. Harry gave a little wave, and ducked off the stage, feeling kind of exhilirated and wobbly. Wow.

As he was getting pats on the back, he heard Glenda Chittock speak over the WWN. "Wow, that was just an AMAZING performance by Celestina Warbeck and Harry Potter! That kid sure can sing!"

"And he wasn't too bad on the piano, either. Thank you, Miss Warbeck, Mr. Potter, for giving us such a wonderful performance!" The Minister said, sounding enthused.

x-x-x

Harry was looking forward to having a good Halloween, for once. Usually, Halloween had always been a pretty crappy day for him. Hopefully, with the huge feast that was rumored to be going on, it would turn out pretty alright. However, Ron had to just open his big mouth and make Hermione upset. She and Harry spent the afternoon in the girl's loo. Harry was trying to convince her to leave the loo, so that they could go on to the Feast. He was even skipping the performance- he really, really hoped that she appreciated this.

Hermione finally crept out of her stall, sniffling. Harry stood quickly, having been sitting on the floor for ages, consoling her. Hermione pulled him into a hug, and Harry stiffened slightly at first. This was his first ever hug, and he quickly decided that he quite liked it.

"Hermione, you're the Mary Austin to my Freddie Mercury." Harry breathed, grinning widely as he he pulled away from Hermione.

The girl had the oddest look on her face- she was blushing. Harry glanced at her, and coughed. "Not that we would ever get married or anything, but I'm trying to say...you're my best friend."

Hermione smiled tearfully, and hugged him tightly once more.

"Even if I nag a bit?"

"Especially when you nag." Harry teased. He was still blushing, though, because at that moment he had realized that Hermione was a girl, and a very pretty one too. Though he didn't think that they would actually...do anything. Their eyes met, and Hermione looked as though she was about to say something when her face twisted.

"Do...you smell something?"

Harry made a face. "Ugh...yeah..." They covered their noses. "What is that smell?"

They turned towards the door as they heard loud thuds...coming closer.

"Uh...Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice shaky.

Hermione's eyes widened as they heard some grunts, and something crash right outside the door. The two first years clutched at each other in fright."What was that?" She whispered, terrified.

Harry was scrambling for his wand, as was Hermione. At that moment, the loo door smashed open, crashing to the floor in pieces. An ugly, tall, huge...creature stood there, a huge club in it's hand.

"A troll!" Hermione screeched.

"Hermione, move!" Harry yelled, pulling her when she didn't move as he yelled. They just managed to get out of the way as the club crashed into the stalls, making the water pipes burst.

"What do we do?" The girl asked, ducking for cover underneath the sinks.

"Keep moving. If we stay in place, we make an easier target." Harry said quickly, dragging her behind him by the hand. Another big crash, and the sink they were hiding under was gone. Hermione rapidly paled, and they raised their wands, moving quickly. They tried casting spells next, not that they knew a whole lot, but the spells seemed to bounce right off of the troll's skin.

"Let's go for the eyes, seems like their skin is impervious to spells." Harry said quickly. "Let's do it on three...one...two...three..." At three, they cast a stinging hex at the creature's eyes, making him drop his club. Harry shoved Hermione out of the way, behind him, and with a flick of his wrist, the club was kept from hitting himself, and hit the troll hard right on the head. The troll finally fell to the ground, unconcious.

Mere moments later, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape came crashing through the doors, looking panicked.

"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger!"

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked quietly, peeking around Harry.

Harry looked at it quietly. "No. Just unconsious. Still breathing, see?"

Quirrel came into the room then, looking rather shocked. "W-what h-happened h-here?"

Hermione spoke up quietly, leaning into Harry, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I...I hadn't been feeling very well this afternoon. Harry was here, trying to convince me to go the Feast when the troll just appeared out of...nowhere..."

x-x-x

After the Troll Incident, naturally everyone seemed to know about it, even though Harry and Hermione hadn't told anyone. Rumors ran rampant about the spells they used and such to take the creature down, but they insisted it was just a well placed stinging hex and a levitation charm. Of course, Hermione was quick to tell Harry that wandless magic was a very rare power, and that only the most powerful wizards could accomplish it.

So Harry told her all that he'd done growing up, and she naturally insisted that he try to teach her how to do it too. After all, you didn't want to be stuck in a situation without your wand. After looking up the rules, they found out that there were no regulations about wandless magic, as it couldn't be tracked- so neither of them would get in trouble for casting magic outside of school.

Excited at this, Hermione put a great deal of effort in trying to learn magic wandlessly. However, Harry barely had to try to get the same results as she did. Hermione resigned herself to not being as naturally powerful as Harry, but she knew that she would just have to play at her own strengths. The end of November approached, and so did winter. Snow blanketed the grounds, and it was quite beautiful.

However, on the morning of the 24th, Harry was very, very unhappy.

Harry stared at the newspaper, his eyes feeling scratchy and watery. Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Harry.."

Harry handed the paper back to her, burying his face in his hands. It was the muggle newspaper that her parents had sent.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asked, and Ron looked over, stuffing his face full of sausages.

"Freddie Mercury is dead." Harry said flatly.

"Who's Freddie Mercury?" Ron asked, his mouth still full of food.

Harry made a disgusted sound. "Freddie Mercury was the most amazing, talented, gorgeous-"

"Gorgeous?" Seamus whispered to Dean with a strange expression. "- ead singer of a muggle band called Queen. I know you've heard the records in the dorm. He was an amazing performer, and had a top-notch voice. He...he's...he was a legend. I can't believe he's dead." Harry cried. He didn't care that he was in the Great Hall where everyone could see him. Hermione was very still and quiet, knowing how much Harry looked up to the singer. Then she spoke softly, trying to soothe him.

"But Harry...everyone knew it was going to happen, Freddie Mercury was ill, he had AIDS, he's been ill for a long time-"

"What's AIDS?" Ron asked.

Dean answered this time, looking grim. "It's this sickness that a lot of people are getting over in the muggle world."

Hermione nodded quickly, rubbing Harry on the back to calm him down. "Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It starts out as a virus called HIV, and-"

"Whatever." Ron muttered, returning to his food. "I haven't heard of it, so wizards must be immune."

Harry's breath hitched at this, and he stood up, furious. A good number of students, even at the other tables, looked over. Even some of the staff glanced their way. "Whatever? Whatever? Really Ron? A man just died and all you can say is _whatever_? God, I thought you were dense, but now you're just being mean!" He screamed. "A great man died today, and all you can say 'well, he's a muggle, it doesn't really matter! They're only hundreds of thousands of people infected with this disease, but it doesn't matter!' "

The entire Great Hall went silent during this tirade, and people were staring. Normally Harry was very laid back and easy going, and they had never seen him upset before. Ron was staring at him with wide eyes. Harry's wild hair was fluttering in an unseen wind, and his normally bright eyes were dark with rage.

"I...I'm sorry mate, but..."

"Don't 'mate' me! I'm not your mate! I never will be! You treat Hermione terribly, you have horrible table manners, you're rude, and a bigot-"

"Wait, what? No I'm not-"

Harry grabbed his things, and stomped out of the Great Hall, fuming. His hands were shaking, he was so mad. Forget about class today, he was going to spend all day in the music room, playing his heart out on the Piano.

x-x-x

Hermione crept into the music room, watching her best friend pound at the keys. She sat in the corner, watching him play. He was an amazing musician. Sometimes she wondered what sort of wizard he would be like if he put that much effort into learning magic. As it was, he did pretty well, and he didn't even have to try all that hard.

Hermione had been jealous at first, but then quickly realised that Harry would be jealous of her for a lot of things- having a good home, supportive parents, no...she felt very lucky in that regard. It was rather funny, in a way. Her best friend wanted to be a rock star, wanted to be a musical legend, however he was already famous.

She could tell, though, that he did not welcome the fame. He hated the stares and the whispers, and it made Hermione wonder why. After all, he wanted to be famous, right? So why would he hate it? It made her think of the saying 'Be Careful What You Wish For'. He had his fame yes, but at the price of losing his parents.

And people expected things of him, herself included. Things that didn't include musical goals, things that sounded more like being an Auror, or the Minister of Magic... Hermione knew that her best friend could truly make a difference, if he set his heart on it. So why throw himself into his music, rather than any of these other goals? She couldn't really understand why.

She watched Harry cry, tears falling down his face, shoulders tense as he banged on the keyboard. She winced at the loudness, and at the way he was treating the instrument. He suddenly stopped, and began to write with one hand, head hanging low. He was writing again, quill moving furiously across the parchment. She had never been allowed to see what he wrote- apparently it wasn't ready.

Hermione wanted Harry to stop hiding in this room, and go out and...well, do something else, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him again. She didn't want to lose her friend. And... maybe this was what he was meant to do. Rather than be the Minister of Magic, or an Auror, or even a Healer, maybe he was meant to make music. She didn't know.

But the least she could do was support him in whatever he wanted to do. He was her best friend, after all.

X-x-x

"Mr. Potter."

Harry sighed, turning, seeing McGonagall coming towards him. They were not far away from her office. "Hey Professor...I'm really sorry about...skipping class yesterday."

McGonagall sighed. "We need to have a talk, Mr. Potter. Follow me."

And so Harry did, feeling a little listless. He was exhausted, and he'd already been reprimanded once about skipping class from Snape. As they entered her office, McGonagall spoke. "I spoke with Miss Granger yesterday. She told me what happened- while I do not know this performer, he obviously meant something to you. Please, sit."

Harry sat down, setting his bookbag down at his feet. His Head of House continued to speak. "Miss Granger assured me that she would give you all of your make-up work. I won't have that happening again, will I?"

"No ma'am." Harry said quietly, keeping his gaze lowered.

"Thank you. Now, I want to speak to you about your plans for Yule. You are staying here at the school, correct?"

Harry nodded a this. He'd added his name to the list of those staying behind in Gryffindor- there was very few.

"...Mr. Potter...Harry...I wish to help you. I know that your relatives couldn't have been very kind to you. I knew Petunia Dursley when she was younger...she was very jealous of her sister's abilities. I am...concerned that they may have not treated you well."

Harry stared at the Professor, eyes wide. He looked away, not saying one thing or another.

McGonagall offered a tin of biscuits, but Harry shook his head. She set the tin down, leaning forward on her desk. "...Mr. Potter?"

"...The last time I tried to talk to a teacher about the Dursleys, she was fired. The principal at my school was an old friend of my Uncle's."

"...I see."

"...Look, it doesn't matter, okay? I'm going to be here at the school for most of the year, and with my wand, I can use the Knight Bus to get away if I have to."

"You still shouldn't be living like that. Your Guardians were supposed to take care of you." McGonagall said quietly.

"I haven't any other choice, do I?" Harry asked, looking her in the eye. "You and I both know that anyone who offers adopt me will want to adopt me because of my fame or my money or whatever. I'd rather just stick it out on my own. That's what I've been doing for ages now, and that's not going to change."

McGonagall stared at him. "Harry...there are people who truly do care for you, you know. I know myself and Flitwick have taken quite a liking to you, and so has-"

"Look, I'm...I don't need anyone to look after me. I'm alright, okay?" Harry stood, feeling a little restless. "Can I go now?"

"...Of course." McGonagall said, looking a little sad.

X-x-x

Gryffindor tower was quiet for the Yule holidays, even with the Weasley boys underfoot. Harry spent a lot of time in the Great Hall whenever he wasn't in the music room. (He was in the music room quite a bit). Harry was often spotted at the table in the Great Hall, his face buried in sheet music, notes, tapping his pencil against the table, bobbing his head to unknown beat.

It actually got kind of annoying, for some people. Watching Harry do this during dinner one night finally made Ron blow up. "Merlin Harry, will you just stop it?"

Harry froze, looking up from his work. "Stop what?"

"I think he is referring to that incessant noise you're making." Percy said smartly. "Whatever are you working on, anyways?"

"Music." Harry said, shuffling his sheet music together, arranging the pages. "Sorry. I'll just...go. Hey-"

Ron snatched one of the pages, frowning a little. "What the hell is this?" He pulled the page away from Harry, and began to sing in a high pitched voice, clearly mocking Harry.

"_The piercing radiant moon, Approaching guiding light, Our shallow years in fright, Dreams are made winding through my head, Through my head, Before you know, Awake, The spiders all in tune, The evening of the moon, Dreams are made winding through my head, They will come for me soon, Hey spiders give me room, we'll sing together, you with your silky traps, me with my whispered tune, here we are together, locked in this tiny room-_" He shook his head, scrunching up his nose. "What kind of song is this?"

Harry glared at Ron, trying to snatch the paper back- it ripped. Harry made a sort of choking noise, and drew his wand.

"BOYS! That is quite enough!" McGonagall said from her end of the table, standing up. The staff had been talking quietly about something until Ron's horrible singing had caught their attention.

Harry grabbed the rest of his papers, and ran out of the Great Hall, crying. That song had been really, really personal. He'd come up with it when he'd been locked up over the summer, though he hadn't been able to put music to it until recently. He tripped on something unseen, and he began to sob as his papers scattered across the corridor floor.

He heard footsteps come from behind- he wiped his tears hastily, trying to grab his papers.

"Potter."

Harry looked back at the Professor who was standing there so silently. He wiped a tear away, looking away. "Professor Snape."

"Here. The sheet music was repaired easily with a spell. Good as new." He held out the paper to Harry.

"...Thanks." Harry took it, adding it to the others.

"It was quite good. What is it about?"

"...Nothing." Harry whispered, picking up the last of the papers.

"You were going to head to the music room, am I right?"

Harry nodded cautiously.

"I'll escort you there."

Harry didn't say anything, following the Professor down the stairs, wondering why Snape was doing this. Snape hated him, right?

The man led the way towards the piano. "It's been some time since I've played, but...I think I can still manage." He said quietly, sitting at the bench.

Harry stared, setting his papers down as he watched the Professor play an excerpt Rachmaninoff's Concerto No 2, slowly getting into it. He only played for a few minutes, but Harry found himself calming down a little. Classical always did that for him.

"When did you learn how to play?"

"When I was quite young, from a friend. They had a piano in their home, she taught me how to play. She was quite good. I only know a few songs, though." He slid off of the bench, motioning for Harry to sit.

Harry sat down, looking at the keys, sighing.

"...What is that song about?"

Harry reached up...pressing down on one of the keys gently. A D.

"When I was at the Dursley's." He said quietly.

"Can I hear it?"

Harry bit his lip, nodding slowly. He flicked his wrist, wandlessly summoning the page to him. Snape's eyes widened a little at this, though Harry did not notice, or care. Harry put the page up before him, and sighed.

"Alright..." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He would just...pretend Snape wasn't there.

_"The radiant moon, _

_Unseen guiding light, _

_Our shallow years in fright, _

_Dreams are made_

_winding through my head, _

_Even when wake, _

_All I see are the spiders all in tune, _

_The evening of the moon, _

_Dreams are winding through my head, _

_They will come for me soon, _

_Hey spiders- give me room, _

_We'll sing together, _

_You with your silky traps, _

_Me with my whispered tune, _

_Here we are together, _

_locked in this tiny room,_

_They will come for me soon,_

_Am I safer here?_

_Or there?_

_The dark and quiet is peaceful and still,_

_But it won't last longer til,_

_You weave your webs around me,_

_Wrapping me softly in a cocoon,_

_Shrouding me from them, _

_Preparing me for you,_

_And here I lie, singing my whispered tune."_

Harry let out a soft sigh, finishing his song. "So...that's it. I..." He glanced cautiously towards the Professor. "I've never sung an original song for anyone before."

"It's quite good."

Harry stared at him. It was the first time that the Professor had said anything good about anything he'd done. "Really?"

"Yes. A bit dark, but I suppose that you what you intended. Mr. Weasley, I think, would not understand how that could be appealing."

"_Mr. Weasley_ is an idiot." Harry muttered. Ron was really grinding on his nerves. He knew what the boy called him behind his back, to the other students. He told himself he didn't care, but it still hurt.

"What is the song about?" The Professor asked once again, pulling up a chair next to the piano.

Harry stared at the Professor, wondering if he could tell the man the truth. "...Like I said before, it was about the Dursleys."

"...Are they the spiders?"

"No." Harry looked away. "The Dursleys...could never be so elegant." He whispered. His fingers reached for the piano keys again, lightly sliding over them. "I...would watch the spiders for hours. I loved the patterns that they made with their webs."

"You weren't scared of them?"

"No. They never bothered me. I never bothered them." Harry smiled a little. "They were almost like friends."

"You have friends here now, like Miss Granger."

"Yeah." Harry paused. "...The boys tease me. Because I...hang out with her and some of the girls in the Choir so much. Because I'm...Different. I know it's going to get worse when I get older." He bit his lip. "Sometimes I feel like I came from one trap into another."

"Oh?"

"...People...expect things of me. Even Hermione. I know she...tries her best to support me...but she thinks me making music is a waste of time. That I could be, I don't know...Minister of Magic or something."

"Then what _do_ you want to be?"

Harry grinned a bit, glancing towards Snape. "A musician...but not just a performer, you know? I...want to create a Message, something that people can identify with. Songs are memorable- long after the makers are long gone, their songs still live on." Harry ran his fingers over the keys again, looking down. "I feel so...strange, sometimes. I don't quite fit in, do I?"

"No. You don't."

Harry's lips quirked again. At least the Professor didn't try to make him feel better by lying or anything.

The Professor stood. "It is quite late. You should really get back to the dorms."

x-x-x

For Yule, Harry got quite the haul. Hermione had given him a history book on 20th Century Musicians and Conductors, as well as some new sheet music. Dean had gotten him some records from London. Ron and his brothers had given him sweets, while their Mum had given him a sweater and some homemade fudge.

Su Li had given him some copies of sheet music from her family's collection- It was all translated from Japanese. That was kind of cool. Hannah had given him some sweets, and Flitwick had given him a book on Experimental charms- the Professor had been very supportive of Harry's creative use in his charmwork. Hagrid had given him a wooden flute (which he had no idea how to play, but he would certainly try). McGonagall had given him a gorgeous looking brooch- she was well aware of his...ah, unique style from seeing his transfiguration work in her class.

His two favorite gifts were from Dumbledore and Snape, respectively. Dumbledore had given him an invisibility cloak, and wrapped inside the cloak had been an Opera record (apparently the Headmaster liked Opera, according to his Chocolate Frog Card). The cloak had been his Father's, and Harry couldn't wait to use it. He was quite excited about that.

Snape had given him a simple black and white muggle photo. In the photo, there were two children sitting at a piano, their backs to the camera. They were sitting on the piano bench together. One had black hair falling to his shoulders, and he wore patched black clothes. Next to him, was a little red-haired girl, her waves and curls reaching midway down her back. She was wearing a jumper and a skirt. They were clearly in a muggle home.

On the back was written, in very pretty handwriting- _Severus and Lily, March 8__th__ 1968_

Harry kept the photo under his pillow. Professor Snape and his Mum had somehow been friends. He really couldn't see it, but he guessed that the picture proved it. He wished it was a magical photo, so the kids could turn around...but still...he knew he would treasure it always.

X-x-x

It was quite late, and Harry had gone for one of his jaunts about the castle under his new invisibility cloak. While he'd always been good at sneaking around, the cloak was so cool! He'd found his way into a classroom, and spotted a huge mirror with elaborate decoration about the edges.

As he looked into the mirror, his eyes widened. He glanced around, and saw that he was, in fact, alone. He touched the mirror hesitantly. His parents were standing at his side, smiling at him. Hermione was hugging his arm, waving with a grin. Hagrid was in the background, Flitiwck near the front, McGonagall was there too, smiling proudly at him. Snape was standing next to his Mother, his hand on her shoulder, looking quite content indeed, though he wasn't quite smiling.

And...he began to change. His reflection morphed into something...different. His shoulderlength hair grew longer, tamer, silky- he got a bit taller, older. His uniform transformed into a pretty white blouse and grey trousers- he was wearing a great pair of shoes, and a silky grey vest that had white embroidered flowers on the front. Instead of being completely...male, looking though, he looked more...ambiguous, androgenous. He had fingernail polish, a bit of makeup on, even his ears were pierced. He had lots of bauble rings on his fingers, and he looked kind of...exotic and beautiful. And he...really liked how that looked. Mirror-Harry carried printed sheet music in the crook of his arm. His sheet music had been published.

He looked to the others, who were all smiling, happy, accepting, proud- they were happy and accepting of what he'd done, of who he was.

Harry sat down on the floor, getting lost in the image. What was this mirror? Was this the future? No...his parents were there. He looked up at the top of the mirror, and saw the words printed there. Harry, who'd always had a flair for words, was able to figure it out rather quickly.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." He whispered aloud. He looked back down to the mirror before him, looking at the small knowing smile that his mirror-self wore, and how happy everyone else looked. He wanted his friends and family to be happy for him, proud of him.

Harry opened his bookbag, grabbing some parchment and pen, and sprawled out on the floor as he began to write. From the corner of the room, the Headmaster watched on, invisible.

x-x-x

Harry was flipping through a Witch Weekly magazine when the boys stomped in, grumbling about Malfoy. They all looked completely soaked, and Harry fought to keep from laughing aloud.

"What happened to all of you?"

Seamus groaned, taking off his shirt over his head. "Ugh, Malfoy!"

"He's such a prat!" Dean added.

Ron shuffled towards the loo, but not before he caught sight of what Harry was doing. "...Potter...are you reading Witch Weekly?"

"So?" Harry asked, flipping another page. "There's some pretty neat stuff in here. Recipes, some charms and spells...and I saw a really cute pair of shoes that I might order."

Dean and Seamus exchanged a grin, beginning to laugh a little. Ron just stared at Harry. "You...are really wierd."

"So are you." Harry said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Ron then spotted his nails. Harry had been working on them that afternoon. He'd used a polishing charm, but instead of doing the 'lucius ruby red' the magazine had reccomended, he'd gone for jet black. "...Did you paint your nails?"

"...Uh yeah. Guys in the muggle world paint their nails. It's no big deal."

Both Seamus and Ron looked to Dean for confirmation, who was shaking his head. "Not all of them, mate."

Harry stuck his tongue out at the boy, looking back down at his magazine.

"Where is Longbottom? I thought he was right behind us." Ron asked, heading into the loo.

"He'd probably got caught up with Granger. She was pacing around something fierce in the common room."

Harry gasped, sitting upright. "Damn! I forgot! I promised I would meet up with her to work on our Charms essay!"

He slid off the bed, searching for his socks and shoes. Seamus went on into the loo. Dean watched Harry search for his socks and shoes.

"You looking for those pink socks you were wearing earlier?" Dean asked, leaning against the bedpost, watching him silently.

"Yeah. Where are they?"

"Ron made them into sock puppets earlier. I think they're on his bed."

Harry rolled his eyes at this, going to Ron's bed and finding his socks there. "Why would Ron make sock puppets out my socks? You know what, I don't think I want to know." Harry said, tugging the socks on.

"Harry, are you gay?" Dean blurted.

Harry froze for a moment, and then slipped into his black shoes. "I don't know, really. I know that I find some girls pretty, but I know some boys aren't that bad looking either. So I guess that would make me Bi? Or maybe I just can't decide."

Dean glanced towards the loo door. A moment later, he was stepping forward, pecking Harry on the cheek quickly. Harry could barely feel it, but it was still there. Harry's eyes went wide at this, and the two took a step back from one another quickly.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry whispered, feeling a little flushed.

"...Dunno. Just wanted to see if it was different from a girl, is all."

"Is it?"

"...Not really. But you _are_ kind of girly." Dean gave him a small smile, and sniffed pointedly. "You even smell like one, a little."

Harry blushed at this. He _may_ have been testing out perfume charms from the magazine. "...I should go meet Hermione. We...aren't going to be weird, are we?"

"No. See you 'round, mate." Dean gave him a little wave, and headed into the loo.

Harry stared at the boy, biting his lip. That was...unexpected. He grabbed his bookbag, and headed down the stairs to the common room. He made a beeline for Hermione, grabbing her hand. He tugged her towards the portrait door.

"Harry?"

He just shook his head, pulling her towards the nearest empty classroom. "Hermione, do you think I'm gay?" He asked quietly, dropping his bookbag heavily at his feet.

Hermione's eyes widened a little at this. "If those boys said something to you-"

"Hermione...please. Do you think I'm gay?"

Hermione fidgeted a little, glancing away. "...You..sometimes act a little...femenine." She said reluctantly. "Not that I think there is anything wrong with that." She added quickly.

"I know I do. I just...Dean...he...kissed my cheek." Harry whispered, eyes wide. "He...he said he just wanted to see if it was different from...a girl."

"Yeah...Parvati told Lavender last week that Dean had kissed her on the cheek." Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

"Oh. Good. So...he doesn't like me then." Harry sighed.

"...You don't like him?"

Harry looked away, shrugging a bit. "Dunno. I mean...I do find some boys attactive, but...um..they tend to be...older." He blushed. "But I think some girls are pretty too, I'm just not...attracted to them... as much."

Hermione raised a brow at this, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry glanced her way, and before she could stop him, he kissed her cheek quickly. She froze a little, eyes widening.

Harry pulled away, fidgeting. "...I think you are very pretty, Hermione. Although you aren't...my type, I still see that."

Hermione sighed, smiling a little. "You know, you're pretty cute yourself. No wonder all the girls are whispering about you." She ruffled his hair with a grin. "Come on, let's work on that essay."

She glanced down at his hands. "Nice nails, by the way."

"Really?"

"No. I bet Snape's going to tell you to take the nailpolish off tomorrow."

"I bet he won't. He'll be too busy yelling at Ron to notice." They both giggled a bit at this.

x-x-x

_"I show not your face but your heart's desire,_

_The images I see are truly inspired,_

_this mirror shows men powers of old,_

_or being welcomed into the fold,_

_my heart seeks love and acceptance,_

_what I see makes me what to dance,_

_my family and friends- all around me,_

_And me- just being me- being free,_

_A heart's desire can be strong,_

_It makes one wonder, _

_It makes them long,_

_It makes some wish for the days that were,_

_I show not your face, but your heart's desire,_

_What would you find, _

_should you so inquire?"_

Harry looked up from his music, and looked to Flitwick. "Well? What do you think?"

The Professor smiled. "I think that was a lovely song." He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you can take it down an octave, and a bit slower? Something a bit more dramatic?"

Harry blinked, nodding slowly as he looked back at the pages before him. "Yeah, I can do that. Hmm..." He stood up from his bench, making a few notations on the page with his pencil. "Alright...let's try it out again."

He tried the song the second time, doing as Flitwick said. He'd been right- much better. The girls, who'd been reading sheet music, all glanced up, watching him play.

Su Li spoke up shyly. "Do you think we could do a harmony?"

"I don't see why not, Miss Li. Hmm, Miss Li, Miss Abbot, let's have the three of you first years do this together!"

Both girls grinned excitedly, looking to Harry for confirmation. Harry gave a shrug of his shoulder. "Sure, why not?" The two girls approached the piano, and Harry flicked his wand at his sheet music, copying it easily. The others blinked at his use of magic, but didn't dare say that was a fifth-year spell.

"Alright, Su, I want you to take Soprano, Hannah, I think you should go Alto- I'll do Tenor."

Hannah giggled a little. "It's too bad your voice hasn't changed yet, Harry, I think we really need a Baritone in the Choir." The other girls heard this, and began to giggle.

"Haha, very funny." Harry stuck out his tongue in a very mature fashion. "Alright, I'll start fromt the top, you two follow along."

x-x-x

Valentine's Day. It was either a good day, or a bad day, depending on who you asked. The girls got very giggling and annoying, and the guys grew nervous. Harry, Su, and Hannah were working hard on a little show they were going to do, to raise a bit of money. They were going to give the money to St. Mungo's. It was just a little show full of love songs. They'd advertised with posters, saying they'd do both muggle and magical music, and they'd take requests.

It was in the evening, and the cold courtyard was decked out with twinkling lights, and cuddling couples stood close together, waiting for the little show to begin.

A small curtain had been raised, and off to the side was a large jar that would be for the donations. Hermione and a number of other eager girls were all sitting in front, giggling and whispering. Hermione had come along to support Harry, not to giggle at him like the other girls. Some of their other housemates were there too, but they were standing around amongst the couples.

Hannah came out from behind the curtain, holding the Choir's only microphone. It was on a stand. She was wearing a hot pink dress underneath her black coat, and her hair was all curled. More than one boy whistled at her, and she blushed prettily.

"Hello, and welcome to our little Valentine's day show! As advertised, any donations you make tonight will be given to St. Mungo's. Thank you!" There were a bit more cheers and whistles.

Su came out from the curtain now- she was wearing a very pretty light pink dress, and her long black hair was put up. She wore a grey fur-lined coat, black stockings, and black boots. She blushed at all the whistles as everyone saw her. Then, Harry came out- he was wearing a long black fitted coat with black trousers and boots, and a dusky pink empire waistline shirt- it lace about the hem and high neckline, and the hem fell halfway down his thighs. His nails were painted black, and he'd borrowed a few of Lavender's bits and bobs of fake jewelry.

The girls started to giggle and clap, while others began to whisper- some of the staff who'd gathered in the back were trying not to smile.

They started with a Celestina Warbeck song, with Su leading, and Harry and Hannah on either side of her, dancing and moving like an old Motown trio. There was some scattered laughter at this, but people began to clap along. After that was The Beatles' _All You Need is Love_. They then sang a Wierd Sister's song, and then they broke into _Heatwave_ by Martha and the Vendellas. Harry then led a rousing version of _My Girl_ by the Temptations, to which many fangirls squealed and giggled happily.

The money kept coming in as they continued to sing, doing another Wierd Sister's song, then _Be My Baby_ by the Ronettes, and then a cute campy version of _My Guy_, by Mary Wells. Harry was a bit nervous about singing it with the girls, but they had practically begged him when they saw the lyrics. So he sang with the girls, Hannah leading. Some of their audience seemed to enjoy the song, clapping along, while...others did not. They decided to do one more song- _My Funny Valentine, _a'la Frank Sinatra, with Harry leading. People clapped loudly as he finished his very solemn rendition- he even saw a few girls crying (Sprout was one of them, and he swore he saw McGonagall get a hankerchief out). He did see Snape at one point, watching from one of the archways, halfway hidden, staring right at him.

Harry looked back to the crowd, smiling, though he did not feel it. He could see the way that some of the boys were staring at him. "Thank you all for coming out here tonight- I know it's a bit cold, but I hope our music warmed up your hearts! Have a happy Valentine's Day, everyone!"

"HEY POTTER, will you be _MY _VALENTINE?" A boy asked loudly from the back, making his friends laugh- others began to laugh too, and Harry flushed, feeling a little embarassed.

Hannah, however, saved the day. "I think there would be quite a few girls put out, if he was_ your_ Valentine, Pucey!" She called out into the microphone with a bright smile. There was louder laughter this time, and Harry gave her a grateful smile.

X-x-x

The teasing had only increased after his performance with the girls. It became a regular thing for him to get shoved about in the halls. A few older students tried to look out for him, out of pity, but that only made things worse. Hermione stuck by his side though, and always helped him pick back up again. He was...grateful for her friendship.

Hannah and Su, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten a bit more popular. He supposed it was because they were pretty girls, and it wasn't all that odd to see girls dressed up and singing romantic songs. Still, Harry had enjoyed performing, and he wouldn't regret it for anything in the world. They'd raised only a small amount of money for St. Mungo's, but it certainly had been appreciated.

Spring began, and the weather grew warmer, and the snow began to melt, and the trees began to come out. Harry had always enjoyed spring, just before it got to be too warm, when there was still a nip in the air. He loved the flowers that came out- all the crocuses and early bloomers.

He learned that Neville did too- more than once, they bumped into each other out by the greenhouses, gathering flowers. Neville sometimes gave him shy smiles that made Harry feel a little melty, and then Neville would do something silly and slip in the mud...usually making a mess out of the both of them. Still, he was quite sweet. He'd never teased Harry like the other boys did, sometimes. Then again, the other boys teased Neville quite a bit for being so absent-minded and clumsy.

March turned into April, and already Hermione was preparing for their final exams. His music room became his solace- he had to lock her out a few times so he could just sit and think and not freak out. He pretended to not notice all the times that Snape slipped into the back of the room, watching him play. The man had never brought up the photo he'd given Harry, nor had Harry.

They just...didn't know what to say to each other. And so, Harry played for him, and the Professor listened. Sometimes Harry sang his original work, sometimes he would sing some muggle songs. Sometimes the Professor wouldn't show up, but he'd leave things on the piano, and Harry knew that he'd been there. Sometimes it was another photo. Sometimes it would be a small trinket- cheap baubles that clearly had sentimental value. Which each new thing, Harry learned a little about his Mother, and her friendship with his mysterious Professor.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the man. During class, he was strict and demanding, and Harry was actually thankful that the man didn't seem to treat him any differently than the rest of the students. Perhaps it was because he and Malfoy continued to work together that Snape never bothered him. When he and Snape were alone, though, Harry got the feeling that the man wasn't even really there, that he was thinking about something...or someone else. And that was okay. It made Harry realise that he hadn't been the only one to lose something the night his parents had died.

Malfoy had been...tolerable around him. He'd even stopped Crabbe and Goyle from stalking him (those two, Harry thought, might have had a strange sort of crush on him). Malfoy was snide and rude, and definitely a little nosy twat, but he was...useful. He knew alot about people, and about the wizarding world. And Malfoy probably thought he was useful too. It was clear that they really didn't like each other, but they kind of put up with each other to keep getting what they wanted.

Around the middle of April, Hermione tugged him along to Hagrid's cabin. The girl was convinced that Hagrid was up to something- she'd seen him in the library. According to her, Hagrid was almost never in the library (and she would know).

"Hermione, it was probably nothing. Aren't you being a little paranoid?"

Hermione pointed to Hagrid's cabin. "Harry, it's in the middle of April! Don't you think it's a bit strange that he's got a fire going?"

"...Well, maybe Hagrid's cold?" Harry asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes, tugging him along.

The fire was the dragon egg that Hagrid was currently hatching. The three had watched the tiny creature break its' shell. Harry was kind of entranced by the process, as was Hagrid, ignoring Hermione who was panicking about the legalities of such a creature.

It was a beautiful creature, but Harry did agree that Hagrid could not keep it there. It simply wasn't safe. So they tried to make arrangements with the man to turn it over to Dumbledore or something- then Hermione remembered Ron mentioning that his brother worked for a Dragon Sanctuary in Romania. Hagrid seemed to like that idea better, so they promised to figure it out.

It got them in detention, and fifty points each were taken from him, Neville, Hermione, and Malfoy, and they all had to go into the Forbidden Forest to see what was killing Unicorns.

Harry thought it was an awful, dangerous sort of detention, especcially one where they shouldn't have been split up, but Hagrid seemed to think it was okay. Hagrid went with Neville and Hermione, because Harry didn't trust Malfoy with Neville.

He and Malfoy got stuck with Fang, Hagrid's vicious looking, but cowardly dog. Harry sighed, looking around the darkened forest, hands in his pockets. Malfoy was scowling, kicking at the ground as they walked. "This is servant's stuff." He muttered.

"You know, I've just about had it with you. Why were you following us anyways?" Harry asked, turning towards the blonde with a scowl.

Malfoy glared back at him. "What, I'm not allowed to see what you and Granger were up to? Anyways, you were the idiots that were smuggling a bloody dragon out of the country."

"You're just jealous of my friendship with Hermione!" Harry said hotly, putting his hands on his hips. "You've made no secret that you dislike her because of her blood and all-"

Malfoy got in his face, looking angry. "I'm not jealous of her because of that- she gets to spend all this time with you, and what do I get? Potions! We hardly ever talk outside of class, it's like you don't even-"

"Malfoy, you're a bully and a spoiled prat. If you changed that, I might want to hang out with you more." Harry said, eyes narrowing.

Malfoy's lips thinned, fists clenching at his sides. "...If we've come to name-calling, I guess I can call you what everyone else is, behind your back- _fag_." He hissed, grey eyes narrowing. Harry flinched at this. "_Queer_."

"Stop it." Harry whispered, voice trembling.

"What, you're not so brave now, are you Potter? I'm still trying to figure out how you got Sorted into Gryffindor."

"That's because I begged it not to Sort me into Slytherin!" Harry yelled. "I knew that if the House was filled with prats like you, I'd go mad!"

Malfoy was about to say something when he spotted something over Harry's shoulder. "Potter.." He sounded scared. Harry turned, and they saw silver blood dotting the ground.

Harry quickly followed the trail of blood, and Malfoy ran off to 'get Hagrid', but Harry secretly thought the blonde didn't want to be anywhere near whatever was going on here.

Harry held back a gasp as he saw the unicorn. It was laid out on the ground, so beautiful and tragic, nearly glowing in the moonlight. Something was feeding on its neck- the poor creature was already dead. Harry hid behind the nearest tree, watching the shadowy figure. It was...horrible. Who would do such a thing?

He took a step backwards as the figure glanced up, his hood covering his face partially. Harry took a few more steps back, feeling a little scared. Then the shadowy figure moved, swooping towards him swiftly- Harry fell back, but before the thing could get to him, he heard the loud sound of hooves sprinting towards them- a Centuar was kicking the figure in the chest, making it fly away.

The Centaur turned- a Palomino body, partly man. He had long hair, and he was quite good looking, and very serious. Harry stared up at him, feeling scared, and relieved. "You saved me." He whispered, slowly standing up, hands shaking. "Thank you."

"It is not safe for you in this forest, Harry Potter." The Centaur spoke softly, bowing his head towards Harry. "Can you walk?"

Harry suddenly realised he was favoring one leg or another- he must have twisted his ankle as he fell back. "Well...I..."

"No matter." He picked Harry up gently, putting him on his back. "Hold on. I will take you to Hagrid, and you must leave. This place is not safe for you."

Harry held on tightly. "What is your name?"

"Firenze."

"It's nice to meet you, Firenze." Harry whispered, clutching the Centaur tightly as they galloped away.

X-x-x

Harry had quietly responded to an ad in the Daily Prophet for a flat in Diagon. They'd wanted someone who was 'very open-minded' and 'loved music and art'. Gender or age was not specified, and he would be getting the top floor. Harry had told them that he was a student, seeking to rent a place for just the summer. He told them that he had the money that they were asking for the rather cheap rent, and that he loved music quite a bit- muggle and magical.

Harry would rather have had rented a place in the muggle world...if he thought anyone would rent to him. But he wanted to keep this all quiet, so he only signed his name HP. He desperately wanted to get away from the Dursleys, but he didn't want the Professors snooping in on his business and making things worse.

They responded positively, saying that they rented to students all the time, and would be happy to have him for the summer.

Final Exams began, and everything went pretty smoothly. It was all that Harry could do to keep humming little ditties and tunes aloud while he answered the questions- he knew that would have annoyed people. But those little ditties had certainly helped him remember things!

His very last day of exams had him smiling- he kind of liked history, since he never bothered listening to Binns. Most of his classmates had nearly fallen asleep in their exams- only he and Hermione had managed to stay properly awake.

Harry had been heading towards the music room to get a little practicing in when he was suddenly ambushed in the corridor- someone had stunned him from behind, and he fell forward, knowing no more.

X-x-x

Harry came to, his head hurting a little, and to someone's boots standing inches from his face.

"Get up, Potter." Came the hissing whisper.

Harry quickly did so, getting scared. Where was he? He looked around wildly, noting the round chamber, the dias with a familiar looking Mirror, and...Professor Quirrel?

"Professor?"

The man had turned towards the mirror, staring hard. "Boy, I want you to look into that mirror. What do you see?"

"Er..." Harry went towards the mirror. The prettier, more grown up version of himself stood there, smirking sensuously. James and Lily Potter stood on either side, looking worried and sad. "I see me, with my parents." He whispered, looking back to Quirrel. "What are you on about?"

"I need the Stone. The Philosopher's Stone. Get it for me."

"What?" Harry was terribly confused. "I have no bloody idea what you're on about-"

"Get it for ME!" The man yelled, eyes flashing red.

Harry was suddenly fearful of those red eyes. "V-Voldemort?" He whispered.

"Yessss...you've finally figured it out, have you?"

Harry's heart beat fast, and he turned back towards the mirror, silently panicking. Voldemort! How did Voldemort get here?

"If you get me the stone...I can give you all sorts of things." Voldemort whispered. "Money...fame..."

"I've already got that." Harry snarked.

"Your parents?"

Harry's breath hitched at this. He stared at his reflection, his mirror self slowly morphing back into his usual reflection. He looked scared, and pale, and...just plain, ordinary Harry. His parents squeezed his shoulders comfortingly. No...Voldemort could not truly get his parents back.

"I don't see it." Harry said in a small voice. "I don't know how to get the stone back. If I did, I wouldn't give to you anyways." He whispered.

Voldemort growled, grabbing the his throat suddenly. "Listen here, you little faggy_ twat_-" He suddenly hissed, bringing his hand back. His hand was sizzling. "What is this?" His voice wavered, and he took a step back. Those red eyes were switching to Hazel again- they looked scared.

"Master...I cannot touch the boy!" Quirrel cried.

"YES YOU CAN!" Voldemort's hiss rang out. "KILL HIM!"

Quirrel threw himself forward- Harry brought his hands up to Quirrel face- they smashed into the mirror, falling off the Dias. Harry watched as Quirrel's face sizzled and burned at his touch, burning the man alive. What was this magic?

Quirrel's skin was turning to ash now- Harry kicked the man's heavy body off of him as he died. A shadowy form floated above Quirrel's body, and flew away. Harry let his head fall back to the floor- he was suddenly feeling tired, drained. Something was pricking him. It may have been the glass. He may be bleeding. He wasn't quite sure.

He heard a door slam open, rather distantly. Footsteps. He smiled weakly as he saw a concerned, familiar face hovering over his. "...You're here." He whispered, closing his eyes, and he knew no more.

X-x-x

Harry was unconcious for three days. When he came to, it was in the middle of the night, and he was alone. It felt very lonely, and he went back to sleep. The next time he woke, he heard soft humming and a hand going through his hair. He turned his head towards the sound, and saw Hermione sitting there at his side.

"Hello sleepy head." The girl whispered, giving him a small smile.

"Hey." He rasped. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three, nearly four days. Everyone knows what happened, naturally. Are you okay?"

"...Yeah. Snape...he saved me."

The girl gave him an odd look. "He did? Everyone said it was Dumbledore that carried you up."

"...I...thought I saw him." Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "Maybe I had just imagined things. I was kind of out of it, after all. So...is...Quirrel still alive?"

"...No." Hermione said quietly. "...No one is quite sure what happened to him. The official story is that he burned in the fire."

"...Oh." Harry turned his head away from her. He'd killed a man with his bare hands. A tear fell from the corner of his eye, and a line of Bohemian Rhapsody got stuck in his head. "...Mama...I just killed a man...put a gun to his head...pulled my trigger, now he's dead..."

"Harry darling...it's no time to be quoting songs." Hermione chastised gently.

Harry started to sob.

Outside the bed curtains stood one Severus Snape, invisible, listening, his heart breaking.

X-x-x

Harry left the Hogwarts Express, feeling...different. More so, than usual. He felt like things had changed, since that day when he had woken up in the hospital wing. His last few days of term had felt like a fog, and now all he wanted to do was to get away for a little while and concentrate on...other things.

Whilst on the train, he'd changed his clothes to something that was a bit more...him. People were staring, but he didn't care. He was wearing a band t-shirt with a cute red hoodie that Hermione had given him (it had gotten a bit too small across the chest for her). He'd put on a pair of black shorts, short black socks with black lace about the hem, and his red converse.

His hood was up- he didn't want people staring at his scar. His hair was down, slightly hiding his face since the hood was pressing it in a little. His nails were painted black again, and McGonagall's brooch was pinned to his jacket. He was wearing his Mother's baubles, he didn't care if they were too girly or not.

_"Fag." _A student hissed as he passed. Harry ignored them. He saw Hermione and her parents waiting for him outside the barrier- he could see her parents staring at him, raising their brows. Still, Hermione had said that they were open-minded.

"You must be Harry. It's nice to meet you. Hermione spoke of nothing else in her letters." Mrs. Granger said warmly, shaking his hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Granger."

Mr. Granger shook his head, sizing him up silently. "...You one of those punk-rocker types? You don't do drugs, do you?"

"Daddy! He's not even twelve!" Hermione hissed at her Father.

Harry smiled a little. "It's okay. And no, Mr. Granger, I don't do any of that, and I don't plan on ever doing any of that. My Uncle liked to imbibe a little too much...don't want to turn out that way." He said breezily. He looked to Hermione, giving her a smile. "Have a good holiday. I'll be seeing you on September first, then?"

"Of course!" Hermione gave him one of her big hugs. Harry hugged her back, feeling kind of sad.

"Remember, 'Mione, you're my Mary Austin, right?"

Hermione giggled a little, looking a bit teary-eyed. "Yeah. Best friends forever."

He gave her a playful salute. "Alright General Granger, you have a lovely holiday, and I'll be seeing you. 'Ta." And he started to walk away.

"Harry!" Hermione called after him, and he turned. "...Where are your relatives?"

"Eh. Around. Don't worry about me." Harry said with a smile, and he continued to walk away.

X-x-x

Harry glanced at the paper in his hands, staring at the building he would be renting his flat in. It was painted bright blue, with multi-colored shutters and things- on the ground floor was the music shop! What luck! He hadn't connected the two until now, and he was quite thankful that he'd decided to do this.

He went through the hot pink door beside the shop entrance, and levitated his suitcase up the stairs. The best thing about staying in Diagon was that no one would be able to detect underage magic. There was just too much interference. He was to be on the very top floor, but he had to go by the first flat he passed to pick up the keys, and give his rent money.

He knocked on the door, staring at the bright red door. Huh. The door opened a crack, and then widened a little. A woman stood there. She was wearing long skirts and a tunic, and her hair was quite long. She had paint on her hands, and she was wiping at them with a rag. She looked Harry over approvingly.

"...You must be the student. How old are you, kid?"

"Eleven. I'll be twelve at the end of July."

"...Well...you aren't the first. Your parents kick you out?"

"My parents are dead. My Guardians are assholes."

The woman's eyes narrowed a little, and she peered at him. "Harry Potter...huh, well, as long as you don't make trouble, I don't care what you do. Come in. I'll need to find the keys. You can leave your stuff out there, it'll be just a minute."

Harry went into the flat- it was small, with wall to wall bookshelves and paintings- it was quite colorful and wild. And messy. Colorful abstract paintings were strewn about the place, as well as papers with drawings on them A man was sitting on the floor, drawing in a sketchpad with charoal. He glanced over as he saw Harry, and did a doubletake.

"Hey, it's the student! Nice clothes, kid."

Harry stared at the guy- he wasn't wearing a shirt or shoes- he was just wearing black trousers. His brown hair was messy, and he had a beard. He heard Jimmy Hedrix playing in the background, and his confused smile widened.

"Merlin, you guys are hippies!"

The woman rolled her eyes at this, digging through a jar by the door. "You got the money?"

"Oh yeah." Harry handed her his money bag. "Full rent for the next three months."

She peered into the bag, nodding a bit, and handed him the keys. "There you go, kid." Harry grinned as he looked at the key. "You'll be on the top floor, as you already know. Above us, we've got a lesbian couple- you don't mind that, do you?"

Harry rolled his eyes at this. "Do I look like I would mind?"

She looked him over. "I guess not. Anyways, above them, we've got a vampire chap-" At Harry's alarmed look, she hastened to explain. "He's a cool guy. He keeps to himself, mostly- he only drinks animal blood, so don't worry. You okay with that?"

"Uh...yeah. I guess so." Harry said quietly. How strange, the world he lived in. "So who owns the music shop?"

"Oh, that's Grace. She's one of the lesbians that lives upstairs."

"...Last time I was there, the clerk was a guy."

"Oh, that's Jimmy." The woman made a face. "A real square. He only comes in during the busy season."

"You draw, kid?" The guy who'd yet to introduce himself said from his place on the floor.

"I do, a little. I make my own clothes sometimes, and I write and play music. I want to be a musician."

"Cool." The woman seemed to warm up to him a bit. "You any good?"

"...I guess so. People say I am." Harry gave a little shrug.

"Alright, well, if you got any problems with the flat or anything, just let us know. Sometimes there's a spot of bother with the hot water, but you know warming charms, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're good."

x-x-x

Harry headed up to his flat, glancing at the doors he'd passed on the landings. The 'lesbian couple' door was painted a rich green, and a gold plate simply stated – 'Grace and Wren'. The 'Vampire Chap' just had a plain brown door, but he could hear Jazz music blasting through it.

Harry grinned a little, really liking this place a lot. Maybe he could buy the flat outright once he finished Hogwarts?

He finally reached the top floor, and looked at his door. It was painted a cheerful yellow. He unlocked the door, and went into the flat. It was tiny. Very tiny. But he figured it would be, with the rent he was paying. It was a one room sort of deal, with a loo attached. There was a kitchette, and a convertable sofa, and lots of empty shelves. The walls were painted a faded green color, and the hardwood floors had paint spatters.

That was alright. It had charachter. There were windows, and it looked like the balcony outside led up to the roof. Cool. He set his things down, letting Hedwig out of her cage. This summer was going to be awesome, he just knew it.

X-x-x

Harry met Grace the very next day, when he went to visit the music shop. She was an older lady with curly greying hair, and pretty green robes. He'd expected her to be younger, maybe. Still, that didn't stop him from approaching her.

"Hello young man, can I help you?"

Harry smiled. "I'm Harry. I just moved into the flat on the top floor."

"Oh my, you're a little younger than our usual tenants up there..." She gave him a smile. "But I suppose you have your reasons for setting out on your own. Welcome to the building, Mr. Harry."

"Thanks. I was here last summer, when I was getting my supplies...I kind of came in here and scared your clerk half to death...um...Jimmy, right?"

"Oh...yes." The woman looked a little amused. "Jim's sometimes a worrywart."

"Do you mind if I play on the piano sometimes?" He motioned to the piano by the window.

"I don't mind." The woman smiled. "You play anything else?"

"I've always wanted to, but..." Harry shrugged, heading towards the piano. "I dunno. So, how long have you had this shop?" He sat on the bench, testing the height a little. This was a gorgeous piano, in much better condition than the one at the school.

"Oh, for about thirty years now. We- my Partner and I- own the building. Since Wren and I are out and about all the time, we let Max and Zoey deal with the tenants."

"Cool. You mind if I play muggle music?"

"No, I don't mind at all. It's been a while since I got to go over there, so feel free."

Harry grinned and thought about what he wanted to play. Hmm... "Cry Baby, by Janis Joplin." He said with a little nod, and he began to sing the intro- he began to sing, closing his eyes, really getting into it, belting it out loudly, rocking a little as he banged at the piano.

As he finished, Grace clapped, making him jump a little and look to her with a little grin. "That was a Fantastic song. And that was a muggle artist?"

"Yeah, as far as I know, she's muggle." Harry said, panting. That song took a little out of him. He could never compare to Goddess Janis, but he could certainly try his best.

"Well, it was great. Do you know any other songs?" She asked, going to open the door and the windows to the shop, making the place brighten up a bit more, letting the sunlight in. Coincidentally, it allowed passersby to stop and listen.

x-x-x

Harry loved his little flat. Whenver he wasn't there, rocking out to his albums, doing summer homework, and writing music, he was often in the music shop, playing on the piano there. Grace was happy to let him play- it brought customers in.

Whenever Harry wasn't at the shop, he went out and about in Diagon and in muggle London. He bought some more records, some fun sewing patterns and fabric for some clothes he wanted to make- he also went to the Theatre for the first time. He could see why Hermione went on and on about musicals, her favored choice of music. They were quite fun. He went to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show (He'd snuck in under his invisibility cloak). He fell in love with Tim Curry and his...amazing attire, voice, and attitude.

Harry also went to a couple of concerts- he fell in love with Bjork, who was a newcomer to London was currently making her first solo album. He loved her colorful style and unique sound. He also saw Soft Cell perform, and fell in love with their lyrics- he was looking forward to covering some of their songs, and he was eager to buy their music.

Max and Zoey (the hippies), were cool. He hung out with them sometimes in their flat. They were both artists. Zoey was an abstract painter, while Max did political cartoons for a magazine called the Quibbler. They introduced him to some musicians (muggle and magical alike) he hadn't heard of.

He was kind of sad that Hermone was not returning any of his letters. But hopefully there had to be a really, really good reason for that.

Harry continued to experiment with his style, actually going to thrift stores and buying girl's clothing outright. He was often mistaken as a girl anyways, so it didn't matter much. Harry had finally discovered Donna Summer's dico-era music. He'd been a big fan of her in the Supremes, but after hearing some of her solo stuff, he ended up getting some of her albums.

He was singing one of her songs in the Music shop late one evening while Grace was closing up her shop when an older man entered. Harry glanced up, eyes riveted on him. The man was quite tall, his skin tanned (but not overly so) , and his short hair completely white. He was bloody gorgeous. Harry continued to play on the piano, studying the man's physique- he wore a black tank top that showed off some serious muscle and some black trousers and boots. He looked bloody sexy.

"Grace, I'm going to have to borrow your piano player. Gia cancelled on us, last minute. You mind?"

"Ask him." Grace said, waving towards Harry, counting her till.

The man looked towards Harry, glancing him over. "How old are you?"

"Depends. What do you need?" Harry asked with a little smile, still playing.

"I need a performer, just for tonight only. I'll give you 50 Galleons." Harry glanced towards Grace, and the woman gave him a small nod.

Harry looked back towards the man. "Alright. When and where?"

"In an hour, and down the street. We've got a piano there. I don't care what you play, as long as it makes people dance and spend their money."

"I can do that." Harry grinned. "Let me just kip upstairs and get ready." He said, and stood from the bench. He saw the man look him over. He was wearing a pair of denims and a hot pink shirt- his nails were painted black, and he wore lots of bands on his wrists.

"Change into something cute and bright. What's your name, kid?"

"Harry."

" hurry up and get ready. I'll give you half an hour, and then I'll take you to the pub."

"Thanks!"

He grinned at Grace, and the woman gave him a little smile. He headed for the stairs, and paused, turning a little. "What's your name, Sir?"

"Everyone just calls me Boss." The guy said with a laugh. "Michael, Mike, whatever."

"I'll be back soon." Harry ran up the stairs excitedly.

In the darkened music shop, Grace spoke with a little smile. "Did Gia really cancel on you?"

"Yeah. Came down with the 'flu'. He's just a kid. How old is he?"

"He's nearly twelve. He's Harry Potter."

The man stared at the staircase. "Huh. He doesn't look like I thought he would."

"Most people say that." Grace said, smiling a little.

"He's kind of adorable. Real heartbreaker, when he grows up a bit, I'm sure. If he wasn't Harry Potter, I'd give him a stage name."

"Hmm, well, that name doesn't really suit him anyways. He's more like..." Grace paused in her counting, looking upwards. "A sweet, that's got a darker hint of flavor. You just know that something dark is in his past, but he's so...cute and happy..." She scrunched up her nose. "He's still young." Grace was kind of a mellow, easy going lady. It may have had something to do with the stuff that Max and Zoey supplied her with every once in a while.

"I'm ready! I'm ready!" Harry cried, skidding into the shop. He was wearing a pair of bright red short shorts and Hermione's matching red hoodie. He wore white stockings and his red converse. His hair was loose, and he'd thrown on a few rings and baubles onto his fingers.

"Let me see the shirt." Mike said, crossing his arms, looking the boy over. He...was bloody cute. He was definitely going to have to tell some of the customers hands off. The boy unzipped his t-shirt, showing a tiny black Sex Pistols shirt. The man nodded approvingly.

"Alright, let's go. I'll look after him Grace, don't you worry."

"I think the young man can look after himself, darling." Grace said with a small laugh.

Harry hurried after Mike, grinning excitedly, raising his hood to block the chilly night air. "So, how many songs do you want me to play? I know a lot- classical, jazz, rock and roll, motown, disco-"

"Whatever you want to play, as long as it makes people dance." Mike said as they headed into Knockturne. Harry felt a little nervous about playing in Knockturne- he'd been there a couple of times during the day, and it felt like a dark, dreary place.

At night, though...nighttimes was a whole other story. The place seemed to be packed full of people, all the shops had come alive. Harry grinned at this- wow, this was certainly his kind of place! The people were dressed pretty wild, laughing and tipsy, having a good time.

He followed Mike quickly to a place that didn't look like much on the outside. In fact, there wasn't a crowd there, either. Was this place crappy? Still, it was his first official paying gig, so he didn't care. He followed the man down the side street. He saw some men gathered behind the building, smoking. They all greeted Mike merrily, Looking at Harry. A few of them even whistled at him.

They went in the door, and down some narrow stone stairs- Harry could hear the thudding of music playing, and it matched the mad beat of his heart. "This place is for folks like_ us_. It...officially doesn't exist, so don't tell anybody, you understand?"

Oh boy.

And as they went through a set of doubledoors, Harry could see why such a place would want to be kept secret. It was a bloody gay club. Well then!

"Alright darlin', you go through those back doors there. The piano's up on the stage, you go right after Kate. The dyke with the guitar." He motioned vaguely to a young woman with a blonde pixie cut. She was wearing a grey tank top that didn't hide much, and beat-up denims, and some kick ass boots. Harry liked her already. Her black acoustic guitar was slung over her shoulder, and she was flirting with a dark haired woman in some rather tightly fitting robes.

"Thanks!" Harry said cheerfully. Mike just waved him off, heading towards the bar, where the poor bartender looked a little overwhelmed. Well! This place looked like it was crazy busy, and...quite loud. How were they going to hear him over this din?

Still, it looked like Kate had an acoustic guitar, so they must have made some arrangements. He watched Kate knock back her drink, and go backstage. He nervously followed her. She glanced towards him as he entered- she was fixing her hair a little in a tiny cracked mirror up on the wall. It wasn't much of a backstage area. It was more like a hallway that led to the stage.

"You replacing Gia tonight?" She asked, looking him up and down, arching her brow a little.

"Yeah. You Kate?"

She nodded. "Nice to meet you, kid. What's your name?"

"Harry."

Her other brow raised to meet the other one. "You're a boy? Wow." She looked him over again. "I don't even like guys, and I totally thought you were cute. You sing?"

"And play the piano."

"Cool. I'm gonna play about five or six songs. They're slow, so it'll make everyone go a bit quiet, so after I'm finished, you gotta move quickly to keep 'em quiet, alright?"

"Yeah."

She gave him a little wink, and headed out onto the stage. There was some whistles and hollers, and the young woman conjured a stool and pulled it up to the microphone.

"Hey everyone. It's good to see ya again. Alright, I want all my girls up on the dance floor and bring your sweeties in real close!" And then she began to sing. She had a good, strong voice, and indeed, everyone was going a bit quiet. Harry peeked out from behind the curtains, smiling a little. Everyone was dancing slowly, some snogging, some just watching her with their arms about each other. She wasn't bad with her guitar either- she had all original stuff too.

How come she wasn't on the WWN like those other bands? She was totally better than all of them, certainly better than that Celestina Warbeck. Warbeck's stuff was cheezy and corny, but this girl, Kate, had stuff that wouldn't even seem out of place in the muggle world. It was...something people could relate to.

Harry watched, and listened, smiling. This was what music was about. Making people feel things, think about things. Moving them. He was kind of in awe, to see it happening in such a way.

Kate was soon taking her bow- people were clapping and cheering for her. Kate gave him a grin as she saw him. "Alright kid, you're up next!" She swatted him on the bum playfully. Mike seemed to show up out of nowhere (he must have come up from behind).

"Alright kid, I'm going to introduce you. People...might get a little crazy once they hear your name. Just play your heart out kid, I've heard you before, just play, and let it do your talking for you, alright?"

"Yeah." Harry said, feeling a little nervous.

And the man strode out onto the stage, picking up the mike, and he spoke. "Hello everyone, we've got a new performer tonight- he's cute, got talented fingers, and mouth that- oh wait, that's my boyfriend!" There was some scattered laughter at this. "Now, now, let's be serious. If this kid was really my boyfriend, I'd be in serious trouble. Alright, let's give it up for HAARRRY POTTEEER!"

Harry stumbled onto the stage, ignoring Kate's wide-eyed stare. There was quite a bit of whispering and pointing, and people began to whistle at him. Harry blushed a bit as Mike took the microphone to the piano for him. He'd have to stand up to sing into it, but that was alright.

Harry gave a grin to Mike, thanking him quietly. He shoved the piano bench aside with his foot a little, and leant in to speak into the mike. "Hello everyone." He said quietly into the mike, his lips close. He could hear himself breathing heavily- he was so nervous! "This is my first time, so...be gentle with me?" He asked playfully, hearing some laughter and some more whistles.

He put his hands on the keyboard, and grinned. He started up with Jefferson Airplane'_s_ _Somebody To Love_, singing his heart out. Not even stopping to pause, he went into Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' _I don't give a damn about my reputation_. As he sang this, he stripped his jacket off, dropping it to the stage, dancing a got people really riled up, and Harry went on to sing Heart's _Barracuda_, and from there. He sang Soft Cell's _Tainted Love, _and then went to Erasure's _Chains of Love_. They were all pretty big hits among the gay community in the muggle world, and he was right about the wizard folk here loving it just as much.

He decided to get away from the piano a bit, carrying the mike to the center of the stage, and sang Gloria Gaynor's_ I Will Survive_, then The Beatle's _All My Loving_. He played Mary Well's _My Guy_, which had people clapping to the beat and laughing a little at Harry's campy behavior. It had gone over much better than it had at Hogwarts. He slowed things down a bit, singing Ella Fitzgerald's _Summertime_, then Nina Simone's _Love Me or Leave Me_. Then he sang Patsy Cline's _Walkin' After Midnight_. He then sped things up a bit with _Papa Was a Rolling Stone_, by the Temptations- it had people dancing again, And then for the final song? The Clash's _Should I Stay or Should I Go?_

As he finished the song, hey gave an exhausted grin, and a little bow. "So...should I stay or should I go?" He asked breathlessly.

"Stay!Stay!" Came the chants.

Harry looked offstage, glancing towards Mike and Kate, whose jaws were dropped, and they were staring at him with wide eyes. He gave them a little grin. He then looked out towards the crowd, and spoke. "Alright- just one more song. I'll be breaking curfew, otherwise." He said, his smile wide, making people laugh.

He headed back to the piano, and set up the mike. He put his hands on the keyboard, and closed his eyes. And then he began to sing Queen's _Don't Stop Me Now_, starting out slow, and then going faster as it went along. He was bent over the piano, banging at the keys wildly, bum wiggling in time to the song as he sang his heart out.

As he finally hopped off the stage, grabbing his jacket tiredly, people shook his hands, clapping him on the back, pinching his cheek (and his bum too), he kept telling everyone that all of the songs were by muggle artists, and that you could find the albums easily in the muggle world.

As he finally went up to the bar, wanting to get a drink, he met up with Kate, who was smiling widely at him. "You got a pair of lungs on you, kid. Not bad on the piano, either. You play guitar?" She asked, motioning to her guitar.

"No. I write music, though." Harry said, still breathing hard. His throat was hurting now, too.

"Cool. Let me get you a drink." She gave him a wink. "Just a butterbeer, though."

The two of them sat in the back of the busy bar while records of Wierd Sisters and various wizarding bands played. Harry's voice was raw from singing, but Kate understood he couldn't talk much. She told him her story. She was a muggleborn, 22. She'd graduated from Hogwarts a while back, and worked as an office lady at the Ministry. She hated it terribly. She'd been writing her own music since she was fifteen. Her parents had disowned her when they found out she was a lesbian, so she ran off to the wizarding world for good...not that things were much better there.

"So, how about you? When did you know?"

Harry flushed, looking at his empty butterbeer bottle. "Don't know, actually. I think some girls are cute, some guys too." He blushed a bit. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

"Guess so." Kate gave him a little smile. "Well, cheers Harry, for your first fantastic show!" She clinked her firewhiskey glass against his butterbeer bottle. "Let's get you another one, eh?"

x-x-x

The next day, Harry was exhausted and tired. He laid in his bed, dressed in his knickers, listening to some Donna Summer playing softly on his record. He rolled onto his stomach, hugging his pillow a little. He smiled tiredly, thinking about the night before. He'd been up 'til 2am, dancing and having a good time. It had felt...right, being there, just like it felt right, being in the magical world.

Mike had offered to let him come back- he'd pay 70 Galleons for a show on Friday nights. At least until term started up again. Harry had reccomended that they pick up some muggle records to play, since all of his songs had been covers, and everyone had seemed to like them.

He really needed take a shower- he somehow had glitter all over him, and he smelled like alcohol. He hadn't drank anything heavier than a butterbeer, but his head felt heavy, and he knew if he tried to speak, he would have a hard time doing so. His lips quirked as he heard the lovely Donna's _Love Hangover_ begin to play.

He hugged his pillow a little tighter, thinking about all the men he'd seen the previous night, dancing together. For the first time, he'd seen two men kiss, and it had taken his breath away. Even watching two women kiss was kind of hot, but two men...wow. There was just some sort of...magic to it. He squirmed a little, biting his lip. His... thing had gotten hard.

Aunt Petunia had constantly told him over the years to never do such things, that only bad boys did such things, but...Harry felt...dirty. Bad. After all, he'd stayed out quite late, hanging out in a gay club, watching men snog. He giggled a little, hips shifting against his purple and pink flowered sheets. He rubbed his face on his silky pillow sham, burying his face in it, shifting his hips back and forth, thinking about how it would have been to dance with one of those older men. It wouldn't have been a good idea, but it was still nice to think about.

He let out a soft groan, hand inching down, slipping between himself in the bed, groping himself through his lacy knickers. He bit his lip, rolling onto his back, gasping as he began to stroke himself properly for the first time. His toes curled at the sensation, hand quickening. He knew it wouldn't take long, he was just...so...so sensitive! He licked his lips, arching up a little. "Yess..." He whispered breathlessly, his other hand groping his balls, squeezing gently. He whimpered a little, hips shifting upward- he was cumming all too soon, shaking with the force of his orgasm.

He let out a breathless laugh, glancing down at the mess he'd made, then stared up at the dingy cieling above him.

All he could hear was his heavy breathing, Donna Summer's sultry tune, and those damned birds outside. He felt...kind of amazing and happy and floating, kind of like the same high he got when he performed. Huh.

X-x-x

A couple of weeks later, Harry was singing as he headed up the stairs to his flat. He'd been out shopping in the muggle world. As he'd been getting girl clothes, he was wearing a simple black shift dress over black capris, and paired them with his red converse and hoodie. He had a couple of dresses now- honestly, it wasn't that different from wearing robes.

He was singing Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' _Do You Want to Touch Me_ at the top of his voice as he climbed the stairs, dancing and posing dramatically on each of the stairwells, pretending that he was performing.

He'd just done that on the 'vampire chap's ' stairwell, posing in a dramatic swoon, leaning up against the handrail, his bags slipping up his arm when he brought up one of his hands into the air with a dramatic flair. The door opened a little with a quiet creak, gaining his attention.

Harry squeaked, and he saw a white haired man peeking out from behind the door. His skin was paper-white, and his white hair was long and braided elaborately. He wore black sweatpants and a grey tank top, and his feet were bare. He was quite good looking, and whatever Harry had been imagining a vampire to look like was not...him.

"Hello." The man said, his amber eyes studying him, looking him up and down slowly. Harry gave him a little nervous smile, tugging on his clothing a little, blushing.

"...Hi. I...I live upstairs. Sorry if I bothered you."

"It's quite alright. I'm Rene- just Rene. I've seen you around...but I still have not figured it out- are you a boy? Or are you a girl? I hope you don't mind me asking."

Harry flushed a little. "I'm just me, I suppose. I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He held out his hand to the man. The man shook it, eyes glinting with interest.

"A pleasure to meet you, Harry."

"...Are you really a vampire?" Harry asked quietly, peering up at him.

The man laughed softly, showing that he indeed did have fangs. "I do, child. But do not worry, I won't hurt you or anyone else here."

"I wasn't worried." Harry replied quickly, and blushed at Rene's knowing look.

"It's quite alright. I understand. You're quite good at singing."

"Thank you."

"I saw you playing at the Underground last week."

"Really?" Harry grinned. Wow. "It wasn't in the papers or anything..."

"Word of mouth tends to be the best way of communicating. I also go there once in a while." Rene said, looking thoughtful. " Well, I wish you the best of luck, Harry." He gave a little bow, his long hair slipping in front of his shoulder. He gave Harry a long look. "You're...what, eleven, nearly twelve?"

Harry gave a little nod at this. The man reached for his doorknob, smiling a little, eyes hooded. "Hmm. Hopefully we'll meet again when you've grown up a bit." He said with a sultry smile. "Have a good evening, darling." And then he closed the door.

Harry stared at the plain wooden door, feeling kind of...he didn't know how to feel. He felt sort of squirmy, but in a good way. He blushed, recognizing that as arousal. He hurried up the steps to his flat, trying not to think about it too much.

x-x-x

Harry's First year is complete! Woot. I hope you liked the revised chappie.

Here's a hint for what's coming in the next chapter:

Luna Lovegood. Colin Creevey. Lots of bullying, and lots of flirting, and LOTS of fangirls. Oh, and a Basilisk. :3


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